


Warm Hands, Fast Heart.

by Ballycastle_Bat



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: All that small town bullshit, Asexual Barry Allen, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood and Violence, Email Correspondence, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non-endgame Barry Allen/Clark Kent, Other, Other: See Story Notes, Pre-Relationship, Some texting, Time Skips, Westallen Endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ballycastle_Bat/pseuds/Ballycastle_Bat
Summary: After his mother’s murder, Barry must navigate high school and strict foster parents in a small town where everyone knows his name. Barry Allen; the boy who sided with his mother’s killer. However, he is determined to clear his father's name; even if it kills him.





	1. Spider-Man

**Author's Note:**

> This DC "rebirth" does not follow any specific canon exclusively, but does take inspiration from many. I've been tossing ideas around for a DC rebirth since I started watching Arrow and ended up sucked into Arrowverse and read the comic book wikis. 
> 
> I mainly grew up with the DC films and Smallville. I recently read my first set of comics; So I don't claim to be a DC expert by any means. Just someone having fun with it as I read through the comics and watch the movies and shows.
> 
> Sexuality & MI notes: Anything characters say about their sexualities/MI are either based off my own feelings or friends' feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Warnings: This chapter contains discussions of ablism, prayer healing, racism and racial micro aggressions.
> 
> AN: If I've missed anything, please point it out and I will be happy to make adjustments to the notes!]]

“Barry? Barry?” In the Lunchroom at Fallville High on a Wednesday afternoon, a gentle hand squeezed his arm, trying to pull him back to reality. “Barry Allen.”

Barry blinked a few times and glanced up at his best friend Iris. “Yeah? Sorry. What’s up?”

“Patty is _totally_ making eyes at you and you're too far off into your daydream to even notice!” Iris nodded towards the other side of the room.

Barry followed her gesture until his eyes fell on a pretty brunet at one of the lunch tables. The girl smiled and gave Barry a small wave.

“What am I supposed to do?” Barry asked Iris in a low voice.

“Smile and wave back, you actual dork!” Iris rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, thinking to herself _What on earth am I going to do with this boy?_

Barry looked back at the girl and gave her a small, awkward wave.

“Great job,” Iris’s tone was teasing. “Next week we'll work on winking.”

Barry rolled his eyes Iris and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. He shot the girl a wink, mostly because of Iris’s teasing. “Why are you picking on me? I don't exactly see you throwing yourself at guys,” he accused, trying to think of the last time she went on a date. He came up empty.

“You’re the only man I need in my life, Barr,” she shot him a grin. “Speaking of dates! _We_ are far too overdue for a friend date. Do you think you can convince the dictator to let you out a little later Friday so we can have a movie night?” she gave him a hopeful look.

“I'll ask,” he allowed, though he wasn't sure Detective Morgan and his wife, Barry’s foster parents, wouldn’t be too keen on letting him stay out, especially with a girl. He’d gotten the ‘if you have sex before you're married you'll get chlamydia and die’ talk from his foster mother when he was about fourteen. She had no idea that his father, a medical professional, had given him a medically accurate sex talk right around his eleventh birthday so he wasn’t _too_ traumatised by her version.

“Thank you!” Iris kissed his cheek when the bell rang and he frantically gathered up his books. Barry didn’t have much of an appetite that day so he focused on his studies.

That was all Barry Allen did. Eat, study, spend time with Iris, worked at the precinct or at Auto Repair shop in town, and if he could manage without nightmares, he would sleep.

When Barry arrived home, he was greeted by a small fluff of fur in the form of Mrs. Morgan’s Papillon. Well, _Barry’s_ Papillon. Mrs. Morgan had gotten it a few years ago when she read dogs could be therapeutic. She somehow concluded that having the dog would help with Barry’s mental health, and Barry supposed it did a little, but Mrs. Morgan never accounted for the fact that it was a companion animal and Barry spent several hours a day out of the house. She had also expected it to ‘cure’ Barry’s mental health issues and became frustrated when she didn't.

When Barry first moved in with the Morgans, they had been convinced that the dog and prayer would ‘cure’ his trauma and ‘delusions’ as Mrs. Morgan described them. It was years before they took him to a real doctor.

“Hey, Hypay,” he walked through the house, dropping the mail onto the table before grabbing a couple dog treats to feed her. He named her Hypatia, after the Greek mathematician. Mrs. Morgan had complained about the name on occasion, but other than that was glad Barry seemed to like the dog.

“She was waiting for you at the door again,” came Mrs. Morgan’s voice from the kitchen doorway, she sounded surprised Every time, and it annoyed Barry.

“Yeah,” he nodded. _She's a companion dog and she's bonded to me._ He wanted to say every time she acted like it was such a unique behaviour, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid arguments. “Um, Iris was wondering if I could come over Friday night and watch some movies with her family. Would that be fine? I probably wouldn't be out too late and I don't need a ride, I can walk home.”

“We’ll ask Roger when he gets home, which shouldn't be too long now,” she glanced at her watch.

“Mrs. Morgan, am I done?” called a boy from the other room.

“Yes, dear. You can go now,” Mrs. Morgan was a piano teacher full time and always had kids coming in and out after school and on the weekends.

The tween made his way out and Barry barely looked up from the mail he was sorting through. He was hoping for a reply from his dad, but there wasn’t one. He wrote to his dad about once a week but never got a response. He sighed and turned his attention away from the mail pile.

The sound of heavy boots could be heard heading down the hallway. Before they turned into a room. Barry knew Detective Morgan was moving to lock up his gun in the safe next to his bed.

When he appeared in the kitchen, tall and domineering, Barry stood up a little straighter. Roger Morgan knew how to take up space in a room. His broad shoulders and stern face gave him a very stern aura.

“Roger,” Mrs. Morgan smiled. “Barry was wondering if he could spend the evening with the Wests on Friday,”

Barry gave Mrs. Morgan a pleading look, he was hoping to work up to the question with a lot of sucking up.

“Do you have homework?”

“Finished all of it at lunch, sir.”

“Yeah, sure, Barry,” he shrugged. “The Wests are good people. Uh, be home by city curfew.”

“I get to stay out until eleven?” Barry was waiting for a punchline or a fine print.

“You're responsible enough. You act so surprised,” Detective Morgan gave him a look.

“Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to keep curfew.”

* * *

“Okay, hold on, did he steal pot from the evidence locker or something?” Iris asked the following morning. Barry had just met her at the West house so they could walk to school together and he had also just informed her of the good news.

“That's what I thought! But he was dead serious,” Barry stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"By the way, Dallas Summers and Blake Kim said my hair was dramatic and trying to get attention,” she explained as they walked. “Please add that to the list of reasons to hate this town.”

“What does that even mean?” Barry wasn't sure what Iris was talking about. “That's how your mom's hair looks…” he trailed off.

Iris and Barry had an ever growing list of reasons why they hated Fallville. They added to it from time to time. It was just something they did. Things on the list ranged from things as small as how there was somehow always copious amounts of gum under every single table at the library to bigger things like Barry getting his face slammed into lockers or how racist the people in town could be.

Iris’s hair was slicked down at the top but free about an inch down towards the rest of her curls were allowed to flow out freely. A different style from her usual braid. Barry remebered her saying a few weeks ago that she was tired of braids and wanted to try something new.

“My best bet is that they just don’t know anything about natural curly hair. It's still annoying though.”

“You look amazing,” Barry started. “Dallas Summers doesn't have a clue what he’s talking about,” Barry stretched his arms out in front of him and yawned quietly. “But Dallas rarely knows what he's talking about. A teacher forced me to tutor him in Biology once and he kept trying to tell me that the urine is stored in the testicles.”

“That’s a meme, Barry. Urine is stored in the balls. it's not a funny one, but it's a meme. I saw people posting it.”

“A _what_?” Barry wasn't really allowed online, he didn't know much about social media aside from random bits Iris brought up sometimes.

“It's like an online joke. He was just messing around.”

“Oh. Well, he’s still wrong about your hair. It looks nice.”

“So, what movies should we get for tonight?” Iris quickly changed the subject.

“We still have to catch up on the Andrew Garfield Spider-Man movies, I also kind of want to rewatch the other ones and I know you wanted to watch Southpaw.”

“You know,” Iris squinted at Barry. “If I didn't know better, I would say you had a big fat crush on Peter Parker,” Iris accused. “I mean … I actually don't know better. I don't think I've ever seen you look at a girl.”

“I don't get crushes, Iris,” Barry lied smoothly, well it wasn't exactly a lie. He didn't notice people like that, besides Iris, and even then … that didn’t feel to him like how Iris talked about boys. It felt different in ways he didn't yet have words to describe.

“You know … if you didn't like girls … if you liked boys … I would still love you. So would my parents.” She managed weakly, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Iris had been watching Barry for as long as she could remember, and she had never seen him look at a girl. Even when she started to notice boys he stayed neutral to everyone. She never thought on it too much until they started high school.

“I think there's something wrong with me.” His welcoming and sunny exterior hid how much he was quiet internally. He didn't think about those kinds of things. He didn't really _feel_ those kinds of things. “I'm not like that, but I'm not like you or Barbi, or D either.”

She stopped walking. “Barry, there's _nothing_ wrong with you,” Iris frowned and her eyebrows pulled together. “Don't say stuff like that … you're Barry Allen and everything that comes with that is wonderful.”

“Anyways,” he changed the subject quickly. “I just like that Peter Parker goes from this nerd who's good at every class besides gym to saving people.”

“You'll get your chance to be Spider-Man, Barr. Once you find you calling. Maybe you could be a school counselor at Fallville High.” Iris shot him a bright grin.

“Hey, Iris … What if I don't want to work in Fallville?” he kept his eyes on the sidewalk, honestly more than a little worried her reaction. They had decided a long time ago that they would stick together.

“Where do you want to work?”

“Maybe Central City, or Keystone?” he shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone wants to go to Des Moines, amd I don't really want to deal with that."

“Woah!” Iris beamed and threw an arm around his shoulder. “I can see it now! Barry Allen and Iris West, epic crime-fighting duo! Catching big-city criminals!” she threw a hand out in front of them for dramatic effect.

“Sure,” he laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

* * *

“Barry!” Ira greeted him with a tight hug. "So good to see you!"

He had to lean down slightly to return the embrace.

“I swear every time I see you, you're another inch taller!” she beamed and patted his cheeks.

“I'm still six feet tall, Mrs. West.”

“Well, you could have fooled me. I hope you're hungry, Ethan is making your favourite!” she smiled and nearly dragged him into the house.

When they all sat down to dinner a young boy bounded down the stairs. He moved to sit between Barry and Iris.

“Iris, can you cut up Wally’s meatloaf a little more so he doesn't choke?” Iris’s mother requested.

“I want Barry to do it!” the toddler protested with a with a loud and whiny tone that hurt Barry’s ears.

Wally West was the son of Iris’s older brother Mason. He adored Barry and looked up to him. Why though, Barry was never sure. He was just good with kids-- well he was good with _people_. The ones who gave him a chance anyways.

“Okay, buddy,” Barry was always happy to indulge the boy’s requests no matter how ridiculous. He thought back to a recent tea party he attended with guest of honour _Optimus Prime_ as sliced up the meatloaf onto smaller pieces.

“How is school going?” Asked Ethan after a bit.

“It’s moving along. I got an A on my AP science midterm.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“That's great! Congratulations!” Ira beamed at him.

"Congrats on being a huge nerd,” said Ethan pointing to Barry. “You're going to do big things, Barry Allen.”

Sitting with the Wests like this, that was where Barry felt at home. When he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Whenever he came, he never wanted to leave. This was his family.

The Wests made an attempt to foster to adopt Barry several years ago and reapplied a few times after. However, they were always denied for vague reasons. Part of Barry wondered if it had something to with the fact that this was Fallville and the Wests were one of the only two black families in the town. He never asked though. He didn't want to know the answer. He already knew he hated this town, he didn't want that added to the list of reasons why.

 

After Dinner, Barry helped with the dishes as he always did and soon migrated to the living room with Iris. They had decided to start with the Andrew Garfield Spider-Man films before anything else.

“Hey, Iris?” Barry asked as Gwen Stacy died on screen.

“Yeah?” she had her head on a pillow in his lap.

“I wouldn't have let you fall like that,” he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. It certainly wasn't what anyone would consider a smooth line-- but it was honestly the closest to a line he ever could have managed. Even if it was kind of a weird thing to say.

“My hero,” Iris laughed a little, turning onto her back to look up at him.

“We’re always going to be together, right?” one of his hands laid on her arm as he spoke the question, his thumb gliding across her skin. His pale complexion contrasting strongly against her rich tawny tone. He held his breath. They had been together for nearly their entire lives. Almost every single one of Barry’s best memories involved Iris and he always hoped her feelings were the same, at least in that aspect.

“Just you _try_ to get rid of me,” she challenged with a wide grin.

Then he got _that_ look again. There were two things about Barry that he could never escape. The first, being, of course, his reputation. The second, however, was that his heart was firmly secured to his sleeve for the world to see and he couldn't turn that off, no matter how hard he tried.

Iris frowned, he’d had that look a lot lately. The one where he would look at her and his face would fall a bit before he avoided her eyes in an attempt to block her out.

“Barr, why do you keep looking at me like that?” she finally asked, raising a hand to cup his cheek and make him look at her.

He closed his eyes and for a few seconds, the world made just a little more sense. Everything wasn't fixed. He knew things wouldn't get any better until he found his mother’s killer. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring down the mood.” but with Iris, the road to getting there was a little easier.

Iris sighed and sat up, moving down the sofa and parting her own lap. “Move it, buster.” she teased.

Barry heaved a sigh and laid his head on the pillow, looking up at her. He didn't really want to talk about it, but he knew Iris better than to just let it go. “I've been thinking about my mother a lot. I can't shake the feeling that something really bad is going to happen.”

“Oh, I'm sorry Barr,” she reached out and combed her fingers through his hair, pushing the short blond locks back slightly, messing up the style he worked it into that morning.

“I just want to get on with my life. The Morgan's treat me like I'm a fragile baby and everyone at school treats me like I'm unhinged. I have another meeting with Dr. Culter tomorrow morning. A lot of stuff at once.” he didn't complain about her messing up his hair, he just closed his eyes a little, feeling slightlycomforted by her actions.

“Ugh Dr. Culter,” Iris groaned her name. “I've only met the woman once and I hate her. She talks about you like you're not in the room.”

“I'm aware, I'm the one who spends half an hour a week with her.”

“Sorry, just makes me mad is all.”

“I got used to people talking about me a long time ago.”

Iris pulled out her cell phone and started to fix her hair. “Enough serious stuff, let's take a selfie!”

Barry groaned. “Come on Iris, you know how the Morgans feel about social media.”

“Come on, how are they going to see my private Instagram feed? I only have like forty followers,” Iris raised her eyebrows at him.

“So, our entire graduating class?” Barry teased.

“Shut up and take the selfie with me.”

Barry sat up and moved a bit so that he was seated next to her.

Iris turned on her camera and moved to get them both in the frame. He stared at the small camera at the top of the phone. “You have to smile too!”

“I'm always smiling with you around.”

“Flattery will not get you out of this, Allen,” she smacked his arm, but not hard enough to really hurt him.

With an eye roll he smiled into the camera, Iris turned her head and kissed his cheek as she took the picture.

Barry felt a heat rise in his cheeks.

“Gross!” came a voice suddenly appearing near them.

“You're just jealous because you want one too,” Iris teased Wally who had just arrived in the room. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“Yuck!” he scrunched up his face. “I want to sit with Barry.” He insisted.

“That’s fine,” Barry nodded, he moved over slightly and crossed his legs.

Wally scrambled across the sofa and sat himself in Barry’s lap with his cup of juice.

“Don't spill Apple juice on him.”

“I'm being careful!” Wally whined.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Barry laughed and ruffled a hand though Wally’s bouncy curls.

Iris grabbed the remote and turned on a more child-friendly superhero show. One with a little less death and destruction than the live action film they were just watching.

Wally always loved when Barry came over, he liked him more than Iris’s other friends. Though, he had known Barry the longest. Wally grew up in the West house, his father, Iris’s older brother was in the military.  Barry had no idea where his mother was, and it seemed Iris didn't either.

“Its seven-thirty, Wally,” said Ethan, coming into the living room.

“Stop taking pictures of me,” Barry rolled his eyes but posed for a picture with Wally.

Iris was on her knees on the floor in front of the Television, her phone was out again and she was taking a photo of the two boys together.

“Wally,” said Ethan. “Time to get ready for bed.”

“But uncle Ethan--”

“No, buts.” Ethan laughed and with some convincing managed to get the kid to bed.

When Wally was upstairs with Iris’s parents, Iris returned to the sofa and wrapped him up in a hug. “You looked like you could use a hug."

In response Barry wrapped his long arms around her and held her close, ducking his head down to press it into her shoulder.

“Is everything okay, Barr?” she asked, her fingers starting to play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Everything is fine, I guess,” he sighed. “I'm sorry, I just can't shake that feeling.”

“It's okay,” Iris said softly, continuing to comb her fingers through his hair. “Is it just no reason anxiety or did something set it off?”

“It's no reason. I'm sure it will pass soon, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. I'll be right here with you until it passes, okay?” a soft kiss was lost in his hair and she continued her motions, one hand coming to rub his back.

“Thank you.”


	2. New Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Warnings: This chapter really dives into mental health issues up close! So please be aware if you are sensitive to; trauma and blood. Warnings as well for violent bullying and ablest slurs. Child abuse is very lightly discussed in this chapter too along with mildly descriptive animal gore. Stay safe, loviles.
> 
> AN: N/A]]

When Barry returned to the Morgan’s he hoped Hypay wouldn't bark, as it was ten-thirty pm but he was wrong, so he rushed inside and stepped out of his shoes. “Shh, Hypay. No speak.”

The dog ceased it's barking but sat down and stared up at him innocently.

He sighed and ducked into the kitchen, grabbing some treats to give the dog before he headed into his room, picking her up with one hand and placing her on the bed. He climbed in and laid on his stomach, his arms moving under the pillows. Hypay took up her place curled up next to his legs.

When Barry got up to make breakfast, as it was his turn on Saturdays, he could sense some tension in the room.

“What's up?” he asked.

“Your friend, Heather Stevenson’s mother called me this morning,” began Deb, a very serious tone in her voice.

“I wouldn't say she's my friend, we haven't spoken since I was like eleven--”

“It doesn’t matter,” Deb cut him off. “she informed me of a very inappropriate photo that your lady friend posted on her _instant gram._ ” she folded her hands on the table.

“Um, we only took one selfie and it was very PG,” He didn't even bother correcting her. He knew this conversation was going to be pointless.

“That's not what her mother said.” Deb gave him a stern look that made him want to turn around and go back to bed.

“It’s a photo of her kissing me on the cheek-- we’re friends. I don't really understand--”

“It’s inappropriate. You said her parents would be there, so you were dishonest with me and Roger.”

“Officer and Mrs. West were there. Mrs. West was sitting in the kitchen ten feet away.”

“You're grounded.”

“I would like to remind you that a few miles north of us there are teenagers younger than me having sex. My friend uploaded a fun selfie of us online-- clearly, it could be worse--”

“It’s not like you to get an attitude with us,” Deb scolded.

“Because the Wests are the only thing I have left and you're acting like me just being around them is wrong.” Barry slammed his hands into the counter.

“Two weeks and we’re going to talk to Dr. Culter about this outburst you're having.”

 

“Barry?” Dr. Culter called.

Barry rose from his chair in the waiting room, rolling up his copy of _National Geographic_ and stashing it quickly into his jacket pocket. He headed into the office, sitting down. He glanced briefly around the room and noticed nothing new, same ink blots on the wall and a strange abstract painting.

“How have you been doing on your new medication?” she asked as she pulled out her notepad and took a seat.

“I feel fine, kind of foggy but fine,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, that's normal so … how are things with your foster family?”

Barry already knew that. He had Iris research the medications he was prescribed intensely so he could script what he said to Dr. Culter. The pills never entered his body, they went right into an old soda can safe on his desk. He didn't need antipsychotics that did nothing but sedate him.

“We got into a fight this morning,” Barry shrugged, leaning back in the chair slightly.

“Care to elaborate?”

“They don't like my friend and her family. They over analyze everything. They were mad at me because she took a picture of her kissing me on the cheek and they said I was being ‘inappropriate’ and grounded me.”

“Well, do they have rules about this sort of thing?” Dr Culter took some notes on her notepad.

“They've never once told me not to let girls kiss me or anything like that, so not that I'm aware of.” he ran a hand through his hair. He didn't even want to be there.

“Well, you should try to be respectful of them. It's not like you to get in trouble.”

“Okay.”

* * *

At work the following day, Barry secured the belts around the engine of Mrs. Hanson’s old Ford Taurus. He used the crane to lift it out of the car and pull it to the side on a table before he went to work. His face scrunched up as he pulled a bit of what was once a squirrel from the fan belt of the vehicle.

“What's that?” came Iris’s voice from the side, she looked just as disgusted.

“It _was_ a squirrel,” he dropped the bit into the trash and began to clean out the fan belts.

“Another squirrel? Sucks to be you,” a redhead in coveralls appeared, her name tag identifying her as Daphne.

“I think your dad gives me the squirrel cars on purpose,” Barry accused as he cleaned up one of the rubber bets before attaching it to the mechanisms again,

Daphne placed a hand on his arm as she laughed a little. “Barry, my dad likes you … a little bit.” in response to the doubtful look she was receiving from Barry. “Okay, he doesn't _hate_ you.”

Barry accepted that. “Listen, I'm all done here so I'm going to clock out. Could you talk to Mrs. Hanson for me when she gets here?”

“Absolutely,” she nodded as Barry fit the engine back inside the car and secured everything twice before closing the hood and going to wash his hands.

When he returned he and Iris left. As they walked, Iris slipped her hand into his, wrapping her hand around it. His hands were calloused and still a bit greasy even though he just washed them moments ago.

He pulled away from her and stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly as they walked

She elbowed him gently. “What's wrong?”

“My hands are all greasy,” he shrugged.

“I'm not afraid of your greasy hands,” Iris giggled. “Also, how do you just not respond to Daphne fawning over you like that?”

“I don't … notice people like that,” he shrugged his shoulders and took her hand again, his fingers linking with hers.

“I still don't really understand what you mean when you say that, Barr,” Iris reminded him.

“The way you and the girls talk to me about guys and dating-- I don't understand it. I mean -- I like science. So I _understand_ it … I just don't _feel_ it, about anyone,” he kept his eyes on the sidewalk as they moved. "I just don't expierence it the same way you do."

“Okay,” Iris shrugged her shoulders and stretched up on her toes once as she continued to walk. "I think I understand what you're saying."

“You don't think I'm weird?”

“No?” her eyebrows pulled together as confusion shown on her face. “Like I said last time we talked-- You're Barry Allen and that's fantastic. I might not fully get it but I wouldn't say it's weird,” her face relaxed and she grinned at him. “Want to go to the new Big Belly Burger?”

“I can't. The Morgan's want me home. Apparently, they have an emergency foster coming in. He’s really young and they're bringing home from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Iris frowned deeply. “What happened to him?”

“I don't know. His name is Jonathan Crane, maybe you can do your investigative journalist thing,” he shrugged and kept walking until they reached Iris’s house. Once he dropped her off he headed back to the Morgan’s.

When he got inside they still weren't home. Barry decided to clean up his room a little bit. It wasn't long before they finally arrived.

“Barry?” Deb’s voice cut through the house.

Barry put Hypay on his bed and shut his bedroom door, unsure of how the kid would feel about dogs. When he reached the front of the house he saw Deb, she had a young boy beside her. He wore a pair of dirty shorts and a warped, stained t-shirt.

Barry smiled and approached them. “Hey, Jonathan. I'm Barry,” he crouched down slightly so he was closer to the young boys level.

“Do you have some old things he could wear until I get a chance to pick some things up for him?” Deb asked.

“Absolutely,” said Barry. He held out a hand towards the boy, but he quickly saw that was a mistake when the boy took a large step backwards. “I'm sorry!” he said quietly. “It's okay, buddy. Hey, do you like dogs?”

“What are dogs?” Jonathan asked, his eyes stayed locked on Barry’s hands.

“Would you like to come see?” Barry offered carefully, though now he was really starting to wonder where this boy came from.

“I don't know.” the boy stayed put.

“It's okay Johnny,” said Deb. “go with Barry.”

After a few seconds, Jonathan followed Barry to his room.

Barry picked up Hypay. “How about you sit on the bed and I'll put her in your lap,” Barry suggested. “that way you can hold her for me while I find you some clothes to wear.”

“It's very small. Is it a baby? My dad said babies are small.”

“No, she's just very small.”

Jonathan sat on the bed and Barry headed over. “She’ll smell you a little because that's how they say ‘hello’, but I promise she won't bite you.” he set the dog in the boy's lap.

Jonathan held one hand on the dog's side and she craned her neck to sniff his hand. He froze and watched the dog until it closed its eyes and lowered its head.

Barry pulled an old box from his closet and pulled the flaps back, digging around until he found a green t-shirt. “Do you like green?” he asked, holding up the shirt for the boy to see.

“Yes,” said Jonathan.

Barry set it aside before he found another green shirt and managed to find a few pairs of sweatpants in the box. He took a real look at the boy, he was thin, and not in the same way that Barry was, but in a way that it was cause for concern. Sunken eyes looked at Barry with apprehension.

“You know,” Barry started. “Hypay-- that's her name. She's a special kind of dog called a Papillon. That's French for Butterfly. They call them that because their ears--” he traced around Hypay’s ears with a finger. “look like butterfly wings.”

“What are butterflies?”

Barry tried to stay positive, hoping the boy would respond to the energy he gave out. “They're these little things that fly. They're really pretty. I'll show you sometime.” He promised with a bright smile.

* * *

The following Monday, Iris and Barry headed into the school. “Do you guys want me to--” he started to offer before Iris pulled Barbara’s wheelchair up the small step into the school’s back entrance. The front had stairs and no ramp.

“Thanks, Barry, but we got it,” when Iris cleared her of the edge, Barbara turned herself around and moved through the door which Barry held open for both girls.

He nodded once and continued to walk with the girls. “Barbi, how is the article on the Star festival coming along?”

Barbara sighed and turned to head to her locker, opening it. “It's coming along. I don't know what I can say about it that hasn't been said in the last like forty-five years though.”

“I'm sure you'll think of something!” he encouraged.

“Are you working today, Barry?” Iris asked suddenly.

“No, not today.” he shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Good … I found that information we talked about the other day,” Iris informed him, giving him a knowing look in the process.

“I'll be honest. After meeting him, I don't know if I want to know. He thought I was going to hurt him and he doesn't know what dogs or butterflies are. Whatever happened to him must have been … I don’t want to think about it.”

“Who?” Barbara put away some of her books before hanging her backpack on the back of her chair again.

“My new foster brother. The Morgan's brought him home recently.”

“My dad was talking about him the other day. His father is in the state prison up. Bastard only got like _two_ years before she is possibility for parole.” Barbra mused.

“The justice system has a habit of not doing Its job,” Barry knew that better than anyone.

“Maybe you could do something about it,” said Barbara. “my dad could probably help you get into the police academy! Or maybe you could go to law school? You'd be a good lawyer!”

“I can't imagine Barry interrogating a suspect. He’s too trusting and sees the best in everyone,” Iris laughed softly and pulled a voice. “ _Did you rob that vending machine?--- What? No? --- Okay you can go._ ”

“Ha. Ha,” Barry rolled his eyes. “Where’s D?” he wanted to change the subject quickly, so bringing up Dinah, the head of the school newspaper seemed like a good course of action.  
  
“In Central City," Iris informed them without missing a beat.  
  
“What's she doing out there?” Barbara asked.  
  
“Apparently she was in Central City with her dad for the weekend and she beat up a mugger-- sorry-- _tried_ to beat up a mugger. She has some cuts and bruises but they stayed overnight because it's so far.”  
  
“Why am I not surprised in the slightest?” Barry asked, vividly recalling his first time meeting her, he startled her while she was working in the computer lab after school ended up with a swift elbow to the stomach. To this day he was pretty sure she bruised his spleen.

The girls separated from Barry, heading down the hall to find the Newspaper club room. It was tiny, like everything in Fallville. Inside was enough room for three computers and probably five people at a stretch.

Iris sat down at her computer and turned it on. Once it finished booting up she opened up her article about the late husband of Science teacher Mrs. Mulberry.

“ _Harrison Mulberry, husband of Mrs. Mulberry died tragically Monday in a tractor accident on their farm. The large majority of us know him from town. He spent three days a week at Fallvillie Library doing read-alouds for local kids._ _He was a valued member of our community and he will be greatly missed. A memorial Service is being held Friday the twenty-second at Fallville Cemetery at Four PM._ ”

She checked it over a few times for any errors before dropping it into the format for next Monday’s edition of the Squibbler, before the lunch menu and after the reminder for Seniors to buy prom tickets.

 

When Barry stopped at his locker a girl approached. “Allen, right?” she smiled a little.

Barry glanced up to see Patty Spivot. The girl from lunch a few weeks prior. Her hair was parted down the middle and ended in two braids.

“Yeah, Barry, and you're Patty?” He checked.

“Yup! So uh. Are you going to the Star festival this year?”

Barry’s eyebrows pulled together. “Uh, yeah. I'm probably going.”

“Oh, so you already have a date?” She asked, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder.

“No,” he shook his head. “Deb-- Mrs. Morgan makes me go every year. Thinks I need to be more social.” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right … you live with Detective Morgan.”

Barry finished putting his books away and threw his book bag back over his shoulder. “Yeah … um look I'm sorry if I gave you mixed signals but I'm  it really allowed to go on dates or anything.”

"That's fine! I'll see you at the festival through?"

"Yeah," Barry nodded with a friendly smile.

* * *

The following day while Barry’s friend group headed to the Lunchroom, Dinah spoke up. “I don't know why you turned him down! He looks cute as fuck.”

“You've never met him! He's not in your year. Trust me. He is _weird,_ ” Iris objected. “and I hang out with y’all so you know that's saying something.”

“Is he that bad?”

“He's _way_ too obsessed with hunting. I'm not about that.” Iris adjusted her book bag on her shoulder. “He sent me a picture of himself with a deer he shot. Like, is that supposed to impress me?” She was flipping through text messages from the boy they were discussing. Dylan from her Algebra class. “Because sending me pictures of you posed with a gun and bloody animal carcass does nothing but make me feel extremely unsettled.”

“Ugh, has he ever called himself an alpha male?” Dinah asked, pulling her long blonde hair back into a ponytail.

“Yes!”

Barbara and Dinah groaned in unison.

“Oh man, you're right. Drop him.” Dinah laughed a little.

“Besides, I'm married to Barry. I don't need a man.” Iris chuckled and looped her arm into Barry’s.

Barry lifted a bottle of water to his lips, inhaling and choking when he heard Iris say _married to Barry_. “What?”

Iris placed one hand on her heart, feigning offence. “Barry Allen, I can't believe you forgot that you proposed!” Her tone had that joking edge that Barry picked up on right away, though he truly did not know what she was talking about.

“What?” Barbara asked as they found a spot in the lunchroom.

Barry moved to pull one of the chairs out of the way so Barbara could sit with them. “I don't know either.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Barry took a seat.

“I might actually be offended,” Iris crossed her arms and sat her lunch box down. “Well, I'll just have to tell the story,” a sly smirk spread across her lips.

“Okay, so when Barry and I were seven. This little freak was pushing Barry around. His name was …I don't know that doesn't matter. This kid decides he doesn't like Barry-- which we were like seven so for all we know he was pissed because Barry’s shoes were blue--”

Barry dropped his head into his hands, a groan escaping his lips. “No … I remember this now. Don't tell this story. _Please_.”

“No, tell us!” Barbara insisted.

“Don't you dare keep this from us, West!” Dinah laughed, taking a bite of her apple.

Iris rubbed Barry's arm. “Shush, this is a cute story!-- anyways. This kid was holding Barry off the ground by his underwear-- which I didn't even think was a thing in real life -- anyways I knocked the little jerk down and he started crying.”

Barry shrunk down in his seat, waiting for the girls to hear the last bit.

“Then Barry looks at me all amazed and asked me to marry him.”

“What did you say?” Dinah pulled a sandwich from her bag.

“I told him to get in line. We've been best friends ever since.”

“Hold on, no. That's _not_ what happened,” Barry sat up a little straighter.

“ _Oooh,_  Barry spill the tea!” Barbara encouraged.

“You said you had to ask your mom first.” He laughed a little at the memory. “Then you told my shirt was stupid-- which it wasn't, Star Wars is amazing.”

“Star Wars _is_ stupid,” Dinah chimed in, putting her trash back into her paper bag.

“Um, Star Wars is a masterpiece!” Barbara argued.

Barry laughed and fist bumped Barbara who was on the other side of him. “Barbi knows what's up.” he was glad Iris had managed to make such good friends. The group was quirky, definitely a good mix of people.

Dinah Lance was a lot like Iris, strong and with a low tolerance for lowlife behaviour. She was definitely a little bolder than Iris though. She was a junior, and would no doubt be graduating before them. Barry knew she would probably end up in a big city like Star City or Sky City. Her father worked at FPD, through what he did, Barry hadn't the faintest idea. Aside from off comments about her dad being a cop, he’d never heard Roger Morgan talk about him. He also couldn't think of a time he’d seen her father there, or seen him at all.

Then there was Barbara Gordon. She was a Sophomore, a year ahead of them. She did most of the artwork for Fallville’s newspaper. She was geeky like Barry, as was easy to tell within the first few minutes of talking to her. Iris had once stated that it's thanks to Barry that she understood half of her references.

* * *

* * *

_Barry awoke to a loud scream. He forced himself out of bed and rushed downstairs, following the source the source of the sound. His father stood in the living room, his hand up to shield himself from the bright lights and wind blowing towards him._

_Barry’s mother sat in the middle of the room, her arms tucked in. Tears ran down her face as she shook. She let out another loud scream before her eyes snapped open and fell upon her son. “Barry run! Run!” she shouted as streams of different coloured lightning spun around her. “Don't stay here! Run!”_

_Barry made out a face in the lighting as he sprinted forward towards her. “Mom! Ma!” he shouted._

_His father grabbed his arm. “Barry, no! Run!” he instructed._

_Barry felt a sharp stinging sensation as his arm was sliced open and blood seeped into his sleeve. Then suddenly he watched a knife appear in his mother's chest. She became still and fell to the floor._

_“Mom-!” Barry blinked and suddenly he was a block away, staring at rose coloured carpeting. He knew this room well. He had been host to many sleepovers before it had been decided he was too old to have sleepovers with girls. The rose wallpaper walls which locked in secrets-- he was in the bedroom of his childhood best friend Iris West. He fell to his knees. His young mind struggling to process the night's events. He couldn't though, he couldn't think. He couldn't stop shaking. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed loudly._

_“Barry? Barry! What are you doing here?” Iris had asked, but as she drew nearer she was able to see the blood splattered on his pyjamas in the glow from her nightlight. “Mom!” she called. “Dad! Barry’s bleeding! Mom! Mason! Help!” Iris fell to her knees beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay,” she tried to comfort him. “Mom!” she called again._

Barry’s eyes snapped open, his breathing laboured as he slowly took in his surroundings. “It's over,” he whispered to himself. “It's over.” slowly he sat up and pried off his damp t-shirt, dumping it in the hamper.

Silently, after grabbing a clean set of clothes he headed to the hall closet and retrieved a towel. He stopped in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He glanced at his arms, curling them in slightly. ‘huh,’ he mused as he noticed his arms were becoming a bit more toned than they had been before. He figured it was from working part-time at the Dane’s auto shop in town. He was still trying to distract himself. He had to focus on **_anything_** else until the shower would protect him.

He ducked into the shower to clean the sweat from his hair and skin. He turned on the faucet and turned it close to the hottest setting. He stepped under the water and tried to calm himself down further as he did. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on his breathing and the hot water hitting his back. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a nightmare quite that bad. It was so vivid; like he was reliving that horror all over again.

A few tears escaped, mixing with the water which now soaked his hair. The heat from the water was intense. It caused a noticeable stinging sensation over his skin but he didn't move. Instead, his hands clenched up at his sides. He didn't want to live like this anymore; the nightmares, the fear, the anxiety. Never feeling _safe_ was exhausting in ways he couldn’t explain to anyone in his life. He did his best to keep himself from feeling like this when he was around the Morgans. Most days things were good, and the happiness was real … then there were days like this.

He never allowed himself to dwell on dark thoughts for too long though. He had to find his mother’s killer. He wanted to help people. He wouldn't fade away and let his father die in prison. When he felt clean, in body at least, he turned off the shower head and dried off as quickly as possible.

Later in the day at school, Barry helped Barbara over the step in the back while Dinah held the door open for them. Once Barry got her clear of the ledge, she turned herself around and headed in. Iris was out for the day with some kind of flu that Wally had brought home from daycare.

“Are you alright, Barr? You look like death.” Dinah commented without any filter as usual.

“I'm fine,” He smiled. “just tired.”

“You're lying, but whatever. I won't pry,” Dinah ruffled up his hair. “Try to take a nap in one of your AP classes, Brainiac.”

“Yeah.”

Barbara looked at him sadly but didn't say anything. She had no idea what _to_ say. The three separated then, as their lockers were randomly scattered about the school.

When Barry reached his locker, all he could think was ‘ _not today_ ’. To his dismay; someone had once again taken a sharpie to it. Writing _Psycho_ in big black letters across the metal surface.

“Oh, look, someone put your name on it for you, _how nice!_ ”

Barry knew for a fact that the voice belonged to Blake Kim, but before he could respond a strong hand collided with the back of his head, smashing his face hard into the metal locker, once, twice, and then a third time.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a frantic voice came from down the hall. Barry glanced over and saw Daphne rushing up to meet him.

“Yes … I’m fine,” he touched a hand to his face, it came back with a small splotch of red on his fingers. He emitted a soft groan.

“You're not fine, you're bleeding!” Daphne protested, pulling the towel from where it hung from her backpack. “Swim practice isn't until after school, so it's clean don't worry,” she wiped the bit of blood off of his face.

“I've been through worse,” he forced a smile and gently pushed her hands away.

“What is it with men? It's okay if you got hurt,” she insisted, touching his arm gently.

“It’s not really okay. I was just assaulted for no reason,” he touched his face again to check the status of the bleeding, it was unchanged. “I hope it's not broken because Mrs. Morgan will throw a fit,” he muttered, pressing his sleeve against it with a wince.

“I'm sure she'll understand what happened,” She squeezed his shoulder.

“You don't know the Morgans.” He opened his locker quickly and gathered his books. “Really, I'm fine,” He smiled at her before heading to class.


	3. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Warnings: murder discussion, Panic attacks,  
> AN: N/A]]

When lunch finally rolled around, he was reading the newest issue of _National Geographic_. Suddenly, the sound of metal clinking the table he sat pulled him from his focus. Glancing towards the source of the sound, he saw it was Dinah. Confusion welled up. He honestly didn't think the girls would sit with him with Iris gone.

“You didn't wait for us!” Barbara announced, offence clear in her tone. “Are you sure you're okay? What happened to your face?”

“Maybe he gets lost without Iris,” Dinah teased. “But really. Who did that? Want me to beat them up?”

“I didn't think you were going to want to sit with me,” he shrugged his shoulders. It was the truth. Barry didn't enjoy lying. He had to do enough of that to keep the Morgans from sending him back to the hospital.

Dinah stopped her actions. “What do you mean?” her eyebrows pulled together. She studied his angry-purple stained face, unsure of what to make of that comment.

“I just figured you were Iris’s friends and we’re kind of a package deal.”

“Are you kidding? I love your science brain!” She grinned at him and nudged his arm playfully. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened to your face, or what?”

“Some guy wrote on my locker again, then slammed my face into it.” he sighed and ran a hand into his hair.

“What did they write?”

“ _Psycho_. Nothing new.”

“ _What_?” Dinah demanded. “I want a name.”

“I don't know who it was!” he lied, and poorly at that. “Calm down.”

“That is assault and vandalism.” Barbara chimed in. “If it was a senior we could call the police.”

“It's also the norm for me. I've tried to get help a hundred times but no one ever does anything,” Barry shrugged and pulled a book from his bag. “Mrs. Morgan is already going to be ticked off at me over this stupid bruise, and my probably broken nose. Because of course this will be made out to be my fault. I don't want to go home.”

Dinah frowned. “Barry … what do you mean by that?” She had so quickly switched from banter to anger to concern that Barry nearly got whiplash. She was thinking about the days he came to school looking like he had been through hell, and his bruises today. She hadn't known Barry for very long, but she had quickly become endeared to him after meeting him through Iris.

“I mean, I've been dealing with this kind of thing since I was eleven-- before that even.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You've heard the rumours about me.”

“Just because you're a little different doesn't give people the right to assault you,” she sighed. “just … look. If you ever don't feel safe going home … tell me okay? I'll call my dad and we’ll do something.” she rested a hand on his back. “Barbi and I would do something if something was wrong-- we would get our dads to do something.”

“No. It's nothing like that, D.” He shook his head.

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure,” he smiled a little. “Thanks though.”

* * *

 “What on earth--!” Deb Morgan rushed to the door when Barry entered.

Thick bruising had sprung up under Barry’s alabaster skin, causing Deb to become concerned.

“I'm fine,” Barry insisted. “I slipped during swim class.”

“Be more careful! You're going to give me a heart attack." Deb insisted, easily believing the lie.

Barry wasn't sure if she was that gullible or if she wanted to avoid the truth. Either way, he decided he didn't care. “Can I use the phone to call Iris?” Barry asked. “She was out sick today and I want to check in.”

“Fifteen minutes.” she handed him one of the landlines.

Barry went into his room, though he would have to censor himself anyway. He knew Deb would be listening. He learned that the hard way years ago. Dropping his backpack on the floor he dialled Iris’s cell phone.

“Hello?” Iris’s muffled voice came through the phone. She coughed, holding the phone away from her.

“Hey Iris, how are you feeling?” he asked, wanting a distraction. Though he had been thinking about her that day.

“I'm alright, I should be back at school tomorrow I think! Thanks for checking in. I feel better hearing your voice. Also, you can tell Mrs. Morgan I took that selfie down. I didn't mean to get you into trouble.”

“It's fine. I should have known better.”

“Well, you did tell me how the Morgans feel about social media.”

“I could have said no.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Anyways, I'll see you soon.”

“See you!”

The phone clicked and Barry brought the phone back into the front room. “Did Jonathan go to school today?”

Deb, wearing a pair of half-moon glasses on a chain, pulled them down and looked away from her crossword puzzle. “Hmm? No. His first day is tomorrow,” she set down the crossword puzzle. “Why do you ask?” her hair was tied up in a dark brown bun. The first time Barry met her, he had likened her to Minerva McGonagall.

“I was just wondering. He seems like he's been through a lot, probably more than me. I'm a little worried about him.”

“Oh, you have such a big heart, Barry. He’ll be fine though.” She smiled a crinkly-eyed smile. “The faster he gets out there the sooner he’ll start feeling better.”

Barry just nodded before returning to his room to get his school books. He set up camp in the living room, opening up his science book and laying it in his lap. Some time passed before he was interrupted.

“What are you doing?” Jonathan asked curiously.

“I'm doing my science homework,” Barry answered with a warm smile.

“What's that?” his tone was curious but also hesitant, he stayed a few feet away.

Barry’s smile fell slightly. “Would you like to come sit with me? I'll show you what I'm learning about.”

Jonathan hesitated and seemed to be debating on what to do.

Barry looked back to his book. “You don't have to, but you can sit with me whenever you want.” he was patient and didn't push the child to make the choice.

Barry never pushed Jonathan to make any specific choice. He gave him the space to navigate new situations on his own time. He often wondered if that was why he responded more to him than he did with either of the Morgans.

They Morgans put a lot of pressure on both Barry and Jonathan. There was rarely time for adjustment or honest decision making. Everything was now. _Just do it_. _You're fine_. _Let's go._

Deb watched the two boys from the hallway silently. After a few seconds, Jonathan worked up the courage to move and sit next to Barry, peering over his shoulder at the content of the books.

“What is that?” he pointed to a tree on the page.

“That's a really old tree,” he smiled. “Would you like to read about it?”

“I can't.”

Barry nodded “Okay, well. This tree is called Methuselah. It's one of the oldest trees in the world. It's almost four thousand years old.”

Jonathan seemed extremely interested, so Barry continued. He went on to explain the different parts of trees and how they worked. He started at the roots and worked up to the leaves or pine needles. He mainly followed the book, but couldn’t resist throwing in his own tidbits. Keeping him engaged while he finished his homework.

When Barry was done he started to put his books away. “Are you excited for school tomorrow?”

“I've never been to school before,” Jonathan looked down at his hands and seemed to be getting anxious.

“It's okay,” Barry smiled. “It will be great, and if you get upset Mrs. Morgan will come get you.”

“Okay.”

Barry looked up at the sound of the doorbell and gently patted Jonathan’s arm. “I'll get it, you can look at the plants in here.” He passed him a book.

He stood and headed to the door, looking out the peephole, he was surprised to see Dinah. He unlocked the door and opened it, stepping forward and opening the screen door. “Hey…”

“Can we talk?” She asked seriously, her eyes cast on the ground. He couldn't think of a time he saw Dinah look unsettled but something was still. “I would offer to take you to get food but I don't think you're going to want to eat after this.”

“Yeah, just … give me a second.” Barry nodded for her to come inside and he headed into the kitchen to find Deb.

“Hey,” he said in sort of hushed tones. “My friend from school Dinah Lance is here. She seems kind of upset and wants to talk … can I go hang out with her for a little bit?”

“I didn't know you were friends with the Lances.”

“I didn't either,” Barry admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I go?”

“It’s a school night.”

“We won't be long.”

“I don't know. Isn't she much older?”

“She’s a Junior … listen I'll just tell her no.” He rushed back to the hall.

Dinah stood there unmoving. It was very clear that something heavy was weighing on her.

“Dinah … listen. Mrs. Morgan says I can't go out,” He said as he walked her out. “but I'll meet you up the road a bit in ten minutes okay?” his tone was quiet and Dinah nodded.

Barry went back inside and shut the door. He made his way into his room, grabbing his wallet which he kept on the nightstand. Then he locked the door to his room tightly.

He headed over to the window and pulled it open. He rotated to swing one leg over the windowsill. Once he was out fully he let himself drop onto the mulch outside his window, pulling the shade down and shutting the window behind him.

He came into step with Dinah. She was walking down the road with her hands in the pockets of her boyfriend's letterman jacket.

“Are you okay?”

“My father was the acting CSI and medical examiner in your mother's case. I've been carrying it around with me since it happened. I never thought we would cross paths … but then we did. We became friends.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” He asked her, his eyes on the ground. The sunset casting a soft purple over the sky.

“No … I believe your father is innocent.” Dinah ran a hand through her hair and let it fall over one side of her shoulder. “I want to tell you something, but it may be really upsetting to hear. Can I tell you?”

“Yes.” Barry nodded.

“I had a bit of a rebellious streak and a morbid curiosity when I was a kid. I used to sneak into my dad's work and watch him do his job … It wasn’t very hard to do. Small town, he was often the only one working those shifts, anyway, I heard him talking about your mother and the wounds she had couldn't have been done by a human being. There was just no way. Captain Colton told him he was crazy but-- listen when you stab someone with a knife, that slices through pretty cleanly-- unless there are bones in the way.”

Bile began to creep up Barry’s throat as he thought about it. He didn't know what to think of this conversation. “And?” He swallowed thickly.

“You said that knife just appeared in your mother's chest? Well, that's exactly what happened.” She crossed her arms. “The wound was more of a tear than a slice. Which implies that the knife would have had to just have grown from the inside or it just appeared in her heart by some supernatural force.” Dinah glanced at Barry as they turned around and started to walk back the direction they came from. “There were breaks in the skin around the wound that just don't make sense. Unless the blade was incredibly dull, but even then ...”

“This changes so much,” he sat down on the curb and pulled up his sleeve. “The knife wasn't dull, by the way,” He pointed out a scar that went across his arm just over his left shoulder. “Whoever it was … they cut me too.” tears began to roll over his cheeks and he hid his face in his arms.

“I'm sorry … I didn't mean to upset you,” Dinah said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

He reached up and placed his hand over hers, shaking his head. “No, thank you so much,” he sniffed and tried to wipe his eyes on his sleeves. “Everyone just tells me I'm crazy. A year after my mom died the Morgans admitted me into a hospital. It was horrible and they kept me there for months. I just stopped talking about what happened, and they think I'm okay but … they were starting to convince me I really was really imaging it."

* * *

When Barry separated from Iris the next day at school, he ran into Daphne.

“Hey, what are you doing for the Star Festival?” she asked. “Taking Iris?"

“No,” he shook his head. “I might end up having to go with the Morgans though.” he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

The star festival was a really old tradition in their tiny town. Guys buy a paper star and have a girls name written on it, usually a girlfriend or a wife, but it wasn't usual for men to get them for their daughters, and then they're hung up in the town square. The money went to helping the grade schools get books.

“Iris and I aren't like that,” Barry shrugged his shoulders.

“Really? You guys act like a couple,” she pointed out, stepping back a bit.

“How do we act like a couple?” Barry felt confused, he couldn't think of anything he and Iris could have done to imply such a thing.

“You're always with her, and I've seen you hold hands,” she gave him a doubtful look.

“That doesn't have to mean anything at all. Why does it have to mean we’re dating?”

“I'm just saying I thought you were dating.”

“So, you think we’re dating, but you also flirt with me,” he was struggling to understand the point she was trying to make.

“I don't know, that's why I'm asking.”

“Well, we’re not dating. I don't think it should be weird for us to hold hands.”

“It's a _little_ weird.”

“It wasn't weird when we were seven, but now that we’re older people look at everything we do differently and it's frustrating.” he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I have to go.”

“Barry I didn't mean--” she started but he was already heading down the hallway.

He was so tired of being accused of things. He just wanted to be close to Iris, he didn't understand why everyone had to make it _something_.

 

By the end of the day, Barry was back in the nurse's office with an ice pack on his face.

Mrs. Lorcan, an older man in her early sixties had been one of the school nurses since she was twenty years old. It was a point she discussed often. “Would you like me to call your mother to come get you?” she had offered.

“No thank you, ma’am. I'll be just fine.”

“Alright, well, you're welcome to go back to class, there isn't much else I can do.”

“Thanks.” He had been locker smashed again and his teachers had been no help at all. Even the principal didn't have anything useful to say about it.

* * *

When the Star Festival rolled around, the Morgans decided they would all go “as a family” much to Barry’s dismay. He would have preferred to stay at home and read some more on the particle accelerator in Central City that he had heard was in the early stages of planning. Or even the book he had gotten as a gift from Ethan West about meteors and meteorites.

He also didn't think that Jonathan, while making strides, was ready to be tossed into something this busy. However, chances of the Morgans taking him seriously we're incredibly slim.

While the Morgans were getting ready, Barry went into Jonathan’s room. “Hey buddy, can we talk for a second? You're not in trouble, I promise.” He smiled and knelt down to his level a bit.

Jonathan nodded once.

“I'm like you, sometimes I get scared and I don't really understand why,” he began to explain. “Or I just get upset. It's really okay. Tonight there will be a lot of people and probably a lot of noise. The Morgans don’t really understand us … If you feel upset or scared for any reason, I want you to take my hand and squeeze it as hard as you can,” he held out his hand to him. “Do you want to try?”

Jonathan reached out and squeezed Barry’s large hand with his smaller one.

“Good, just like that and I'll help you get somewhere safer and quieter until you feel better. Does that sound okay?”

Jonathan nodded. “Are you my new brother?”

“Do you want me to be your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, buddy. I'm your brother.”

When they arrived at the festival, Barry tried his best to stick to the Morgans and stay unnoticed. However, it wasn't long until Barbara and Dinah spotted him.

“Barry!” Barbara grinned and waved. “D, Barry is here, can you help me over the grass?”

Dinah helped her get back onto the road so she could make her way over to Barry. They had been there for about an hour before the Morgans arrived.

Jonathan, who was still firmly adhered to Barry’s hand, ducked behind him when the girls approached. It wasn't until after they spoke with Barry for a bit that he came out from behind Barry and started to ask some questions.

 

Barry headed over to the Star table once he finally shook off Dinah and Barbara, Jonathan decided to stay with the Morgans. Barry was starting to feel a little suffocated, he wasn't used to having so many people around him. He bought three, one for each of his friends.

As he finished filling out the stars and passed them back to his classmate behind the table. He thought he was named Todd, but Barry had never spoken to him so he wasn't sure.

“How you even know this many girls, Allen?” Probably-Todd sneered. “Freak.”

“I think it's because I don't talk to people like that.”

“Excuse me.”

Barry heard Dinah’s voice and felt an arm take perch on his shoulder.

“Apologise to my friend for calling him a freak.”

Barry felt a heat in his face. “D, you don't have to…”

“Shush, if someone called me a nasty name you would be right next to me,” she rolled her eyes. “Todd. Unless you'd like me to tell my father about your little weed stash?”

“Don’t say that so loud! Sorry, Barry,” he said quickly.

“Come on, I finally found my dad. I want you to meet him.” Dinah grinned and took his hand in hers without hesitation.

Barry glanced down at their hands in surprise and was jerked the left. He fell behind her slightly and eventually they came to a stop. They faced the back of a tall man with sandy blonde hair. “Slow down, D!” he protested.

“Daddy!” said Dinah, pulling his shoulder slightly.

The man turned around. His dark eyes fell on them and he looked them over. He knew this boy. Sure he was older than the photos at the crime scene and on the interrogation wheels he’d lost sleep replaying over and over. He was taller now, his voice was deeper … but it was indeed him. He didn't know what to say at first, he stood there awkwardly. “You're Bartholomew, aren't you?” he wasn't sure why his daughter brought this boy to him. How could he know what to say to the boy who he’d heard cry for hours on end, pleading his father's innocence while grieving his mother?

“Actually, people usually call me Barry, but yes,” he smiled politely and offered a hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Officer Lance.”

He shook his hand carefully. “Call me Larry.”

“Yes, sir,” Barry nodded. “You worked on my mother's case.”

“Yes I did…” he glanced at Dinah, giving her a serious look.

“Barry!” a voice whined loudly and a small figure bounded into Barry’s leg. Small hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and held on tightly.

Barry cast his gaze down and saw none other than Wally West. “Hey buddy!” he greeted him, but then frowned and glanced around at the other festival goers. He tried to make out the faces of any of the Wests but could not. “Where’s Grandma and Grandpa?”

“I don't know!” Wally shrugged dramatically. “I wanted to see you!”

“Aw, how sweet. Who's this little man, Barry?” Dinah crouched down to Wally’s level. “How many brothers do you have?”

“This is Wally West. Iris’s nephew. Uh, it was really nice meeting you, Larry … but I need to get Wally back to his family before the Wests worry.” he lifted up Wally and put him up on his shoulders, it was much easier than he had expected it to be.

“I understand,” He gave a curt nod.

“Want me to help you?” Dinah offered.

“No, I'm fine. Thanks though! It'll be faster with just us two.” he patted Wally’s shin and started off in the direction Wally had come from first. However, it wasn't long until Daphne appeared again.

“Barry! Oh, hi Wally!” she smiled up at the boy. She had seen him come into her fathers auto shop. Wally waved at her but rested his head on top of Barry’s after.

“Hey, have you seen the Wests? Wally broke off to find me and I have no idea where they are.”

“I saw Iris with a tall guy before,” she thought for a moment.

“What did he look like?”

“Uh, Shaved head and dark skin, a little lighter than Iris but he was black too. Military uniform,” she said the word _black_ a little more quietly than the rest of her sentence.

“Oh good, that sounds like Wally’s dad! Where were they?” He asked, hoping to locate them as fast as possible. The absolute last thing he wanted was to give Mason something else to be mad about. “Wally, is your dad here?”

“Yes! He got me cotton candy!” he grinned. Wally didn't often get to see his father, who was often away. He had currently been stationed in Markovia, dealing with some type of business. Barry wasn't sure. Even if Mason was allowed to tell him, he probably wouldn’t. The didn't see eye to eye, for reasons Barry never understood.

Daphne started to walk with him, “Okay, so, what's the thing with you and Iris? Do you like her or not?” she asked as they passed a popcorn stand and some people playing Cornhole.

“I don't like Iris,” Barry replied. “Can we not talk about this in front of Wally? He's going to get confused.”

“Oh, right, sorry! They were over his way.”

Eventually they found Iris, her brother Mason standing beside her. He sighed when he spotted him. “Wallace Ethan West, you cannot run off like that”

Before Barry could even react, Mason grabbed the child under his arms and hoisted him off of Barry’s shoulders. He put him directly on the ground.

“Mr. West, he was fine--”

“Don't tell me what to do or not to with my son,” his tone was serious, and reserved. He didn't even look Barry in the eye.

“Mason!” Iris hissed. “Be nice to Barry, he found Wally for us.”

“It's fine, Iris. He’s probably tired. He just got back into town.”

“Iris! Why aren't you and Barry friends anymore?” Wally asked suddenly.

“What do you mean, buddy?” Iris crouched down a little to talk to him. “Barry and I are best friends.”

“But Barry said he doesn't like you,” Wally pointed out, pouting.

“That's not what I meant, Wally,” Barry sighed, this was exactly why Barry didn't want to talk about his relationship with Iris in front of him. “I just meant that Iris isn't my girlfriend.”

"Big kids are silly, buddy.” Mason insisted. There was a beeping sound and he grabbed his phone. “Fucking … I'm sorry Iris, I have to take this.” he kissed her cheek. “It was so good to see you, I have to go.” he left Wally alone with Barry and Iris.

Iris took Wally’s hand and they started to walk. “What was that all about?” Iris brushed her hair back behind her ear slightly. It was up in a headband.

“Daphne keeps asking me how I feel about you,” he rubbed his face. “I don't know why she cares, or why she keeps flirting with me when I ignore her.”

“What did you tell her exactly?” Iris asked.

“I told her I didn't … look at you like that,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I also asked her not to talk about it in front of--” he nodded to Wally.

“Were you being honest?”

“I think so,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “but I'm not worried about it.”

“Why aren't you worried? Iris asked, glancing over at him.

“Because … I don't know.” He shrugged. “I'm scared of everything, but not afraid of losing you and your family. So I don't really care? I mean when I'm anxious I worry about our friendship but that's only because I worry about everything … I don't care what it is. I'm just glad we have it!” a true Barry Allen grin spread across his face.

Iris was glad to see Barry in a good mood, she hadn't seen him this happy in a long time. She loved times like this, when he was almost unburned. Then dark clouds were still there but he managed, and he pushed through. “How about we go find Barbi and D?” Iris suggested.

“That sounds perfect! I'm sorry about Mason by the way …” Iris trialled off. “It's really frustrating that he treats you like that.”

“I wish I could understand why he doesn't like me. He’s never said anything to me. Do you think he thinks I'm crazy?”

“No.” Iris shook her head. “He's never said he thought that.”

They started make their way over to where Barry had last scene the girls, Wally at their sides. He didn't seem very loquacious and Barry was worried he may have been upset by the conversation he had with Daphne. Barry lifted Wally onto his shoulders again.

“You're getting strong, Bar!” Iris pinched his arm softly with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I think it's all the lifting I do at the car shop.”

“No! No! No!” a loud unhinged sob reached them. “I want to leave! I don't want to be here! Please, please please I want to leave--”

He whipped his head around, trying to find the force of the distress. It only took seconds for his eyes to fall on the Morgans. Then was when he noticed Jonathan. He was curled up tightly in the grass. His face was red and his eyes wet.

Barry crossed the street and headed into the grass. “What happened?”

“I don't know. It's okay, Barry, Roger and I will handle this--” Deb insisted.

Barry crouched down. “Jonathan. John.” Barry said clearly, he wasn't sure if he could help him. He was, however, absolutely certain he was going to try. “Buddy. We talked before we came here, remember? I said I would take you somewhere safe if you got scared?”

“I don't want to be here. My chest hurts,”

“Okay, buddy, listen. I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

“I can't. _Hurts._ ”

“I know you're scared, buddy, and it hurts, but I need you be be brave and stand up okay? I'll be with you the whole time but you need to get up.”

Jonathan struggled to get his breathing under control as Barry began to gently coax him up, offering one of his hands which the boy took and held tightly.

It had taken about twenty minutes, but Barry got Jonathan to walk with to the edge of the gathering, and then some by then trees. They leaned up against a large oak just outside town square. The boy still hadn’t go of Barry’s hand. “Are you starting to feel better?” Barry asked.

Jonathan nodded but Barry could still feel that he was breathing heavily. “It's okay, buddy.”

“How did you do that?” asked Deb, coming out behind them.

“We both have panic attacks. I knew what he might need, tried it, and I was lucky enough that it worked,” he gave Jonathan’s hand a gentle squeeze as he spoke.

 

Jonathan’s panic attack cut the night short. They headed out then, barely allowing Barry to say goodbye to his friends. Barry retreated early to his room. He had a new chemistry book he wanted to get his hands on. So he had turned in to read it.

“Barry?” Jonathan knocked on the door.

“Yeah, you can come in here,” he didn't look up from his book and was seated on the floor, his legs crossed and the book laying in his lap.

Jonathan entered the room and came and sat down. “Mrs. Morgan said I have to apologise because I made you leave your friends.”

Barry frowned. “What else did she say?” he closed the book and set it to the side.

“She said the fear isn't real and I have to ignore it.”

“You don't have to apologise to me, and don't let them tell you that your emotions aren't real. No one can tell you how you feel besides you,” Barry reached out and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

He flinched and Barry pulled his hand back. “Sorry, John.” he smiled a little. “Do you want to sit with me while I finish my chemistry book?”

“Okay,” Jonathan moved to sit himself beside him, looking over at the book.

Barry flipped to a two page spread in the book, it was colour coded with little boxes. “This is the periodic table of elements. Everything around us is made from a combination of these. Even we are, they're really tiny.

“Cool!”

“Yeah, science is really cool.”

“Jonathan?” Deb called into the room. “It's almost time for bed.”

“I was just telling him about the periodic table!” Barry grinned. “Sorry.”

“Did he apologise for taking you from your friends?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“I told him not to. He's my brother now and I'm always happy to help him,” Barry shrugged his shoulders, closing the book. He had to work after school the next day.


	4. Roger Morgan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Warnings: Ablism, Deb being a bitch, firearms, discussions of mental health and suicide.  
> AN: N/A]]

Jonathan stretched up on his toes and pressed his face so close to the glass tank that if it hadn't been filled with cold water, Barry was sure it would have fogged up. “Barry? What are these?”

Barry glanced over. “ _Carassius auratus_ \- common good fish,” he smiled. “Be gentle with the glass, if fish get too stressed they can die,” he explained as he looked back at the aisle directly next to the fish area. He had promised Iris he would pick up dog food for her Golden Retriever, _Pongo_. She had forgotten to grab it on her way home from school that week. “They're neat little things. They can keep growing for years! They grow more depending on how much they eat and where they live.”

“I can't remember what she feeds him …” Barry sighed as he added a packet of freeze dried chicken to his basket before grabbing a small bag of kibble. He was sure it would be fine for a few days. “We’re going to my friend Iris’ house after this. You haven't met her yet but she's very nice.”

Jonathan nodded in response. Barry had figured a trip to the pet store was a quiet enough outing for him. He was right and was glad Jonathan seemed to enjoy it.

“Do you like when I call you Jonathan or John better?”

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. “I don't care,” he moved across the way to a small tank of ferrets. “What are these?”

“Those are ferrets, I don't know much about them though. Sorry, buddy.”

“That's okay! You taught me a lot about the goldfish.”

“Do you want to look at the mice or are you ready to go?’ Barry asked, heading up to the counter.

“I'm ready to go!” he smiled up at Barry.

Barry checked out and the two boys headed down the ways to Iris’ house. It didn't take them long to get there. Barry let himself into the front door. “Iris?” he called.

Iris bounded down the stairs and slid across the wood on her socks, sticking her landing with the grace she’d honed from full childhood of ballet lessons that she and Barry had initially taken together. Unsurprisingly, he had been the only boy in the class and only stayed for a few years, having quit long before Iris had. She claimed she was over that phase of her life as well, but sometimes Barry caught glimpses of her pliés and batterie through the upstairs window as he passed by.

Iris threw her arms up. “You didn't rate my landing!” she teased, placing her hands on her hips in a triumphant pose.

“Tens across the board, Ms. West,” he laughed.

“Hi, Jonathan,” she smiled down at him. “I'm Iris, it's nice to meet you.”

Jonathan ducked behind Barry, easily hiding himself from view.

“It’s okay,” Barry said with a smile. “Iris is my favourite person, she understands if you want to be a little shy.”

“Yeah, it's totally fine. Barry had quiet days sometimes when he was younger.” Iris smiled at him.

Barry put his things on the counter before following Iris upstairs. "Do you still have my things here?" Barry asked as Iris led the two boys up to her room. They entered, it was still about the same as Barry could always remember. Hardwood floor, baby blue walls with clouds sponge painted on. He can remember being a part of that little project. The bay window was still the same, but the bench had to be replaced recently when the old wood had given out. Barry had a thousand memories in that window, but he didn't think about that now.  
  
"Of course!" Iris crossed the room to her bed and pulled a box out from under them. "I could never toss out your stash!"  
  
Barry lifted the old box onto the bed. It was crumpled and sagging in some places but he didn't think it was ready to go out of commission just yet. With a grin, he ripped off the lid and pulled out a plastic covered booklet. Some teens had hidden porn stashes, or marijuana, but Barry's secret was a large collection of Jay Garrick comics. Which, in the eyes of the Morgans were just as bad.

“These are my Jay Garrick comics,” he pulled the plastic off and showed the cover to Jonathan. “He’s my favourite superhero.”

“What does he do?”

“He runs really fast and helps people. I wish I could be like that,” he smiled.

“But you help me all the time. You teach me new things!” Jonathan pointed out.

“I want to help lots of people. I thought maybe we could practice your reading with these, but we can't tell the Morgans. They think comics are bad. It'll have to be a secret.”

“My dad taught me how to keep secrets,” said Jonathan, and his hands trembled.

“Not those kind of secrets, sweetie.” Iris said quickly. “Barry would never hurt you if he was angry with you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, buddy,” Barry said gently.

Soon Roger came to pick up Barry and Jonathan from the West house. He sat in the front seat in almost complete silence. It haunted him, how scared Jonathan had looked. He wanted to know what happened to him now.

“When we drop Jonathan off, you and I are going to take care of some things,” said Roger suddenly.

“Yes sir.”

Barry was surprised to see that after dropping Jonathan off, Roger took him to further down the road. The town slowly disappearing. They were heading out towards a few farms. He knew Roger had friends out here, but he had only been a handful of times.

Roger turned onto a dirt road, heading down towards a slightly woodland area. Barry felt confused but he decided not to question it too much.

He pulled over and instructed Barry to follow him. “You mentioned a few times that when you and Iris were kids, Officer West taught you about gun safety?”

“Yes, sir,” Barry gave a firm nod as he was met with the cool Autumn air.

“What do you remember?”

Barry thought for a moment. Despite living in Fallville where guns could be fairly common place, he never thought very much about them.

On a raining day in the spring of 2003, just after Barry had turned ten. He and Iris were playing upstairs when Ethan called them down. When they got to the bottom of the stairs and into the kitchen, Ethan West and Henry Allen stood in the kitchen.

Ethan began to explain that he needed the kids to understand that there was often a firearm in the house with them when they were there. He explained the importance of safety.

In the present, the talk he’d given them was slowly resurfacing in his mind. “Treat every gun as if it's loaded?”

“Very good, what else?”

“Never point a gun at anything you don't want to shoot. Don’t touch the trigger until you're ready to shoot.”

“Very good. You're going to shoot today, then.”

“I'm _what_?”

“You're fifteen now. My father taught me when I was thirteen.”

Barry felt an anxiety rising in him. “I-- Okay.”

“I wasn't sure if I could trust you with a firearm,” Roger admitted, scratching his cleft chin. He was a large man, and he had a voice like gravel on a dirt road. Aged, refined.

Barry wanted to resent that, but he stayed quiet.

“Do you know what the different parts of the gun are?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Show me,” Roger set his gun down on a high tree stump, the magazine beside it.

Barry approached him and picked up the gun, pointing it down at a forty degree angle as he began to identify all the parts to Roger. He went slowly, one at a time,

“Put the magazine in it,” he instructed.

Barry picked up the magazine and carefully slid it in until it clicked. The sound seemed to resonate around them. “Where do you want me to aim it?” he asked, his hands trembling slightly at the unexpected weight.

“There's a paper target between those two trees.”

Barry aimed. “Can I take the safety off now?”

“Do you know how?”

Barry carefully dislodged the safety.

“Good job, kiddo,” Roger praised. He was a little more easy going than Deb. A bit more likable too, not by much but still more than his wife. “Now, aim though the back there,”

Barry aimed again, one hand on the textured black metal and the other held tightly to the first to support it. He aimed at the target Roger pointed out.

“Breathe.”

Barry took a deep breath and when he assumed he had a good aim, he slowly brought his index finger to the trigger. He squeezed and was met with slightly more kick back than he was expecting. Not a lot, but more than expected. He heard the shot and saw the hole in the target. “I think I missed.”

“You still hit the target,” Roger encouraged. “I have a clip and that magazine is full. Go ahead and keep trying.”

Barry tried again, but was met with another failure. “I'm not good at this. I should stop before I get hurt or hurt someone else.”

“You're doing better than me,” Roger laughed. “The first time in shot a gun, I accidently hit a squirrel.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, it died. My dad made me bring it home and cook it.”

“Gross,” Barry wrinkled his nose. He couldn't imagine a squirrel having much meat on it. Their bodies were far too lean. He lifted the gun and continued to aim.

“It didn't taste good, that's for damn sure,” he chuckled. “You're doing great.”

This was the first time Barry ever felt that Roger was proud of him for something. It was a foreign sensation.

“Alright,” Barry agreed and tried a few more rounds. When he was close to the end of the second magazine, he managed to hit somewhat close to the centre mark.

* * *

"You did great today, Barr!” Roger clapped him on the shoulder as they headed into the local diner.

They found a seat in a booth towards the front, It was old and falling apart. That didn't bother Roger though. He’d been coming here for years.

A waitress came by and smiled wide. “Hey Roger! Barry.” she nodded towards Barry. “Usual?”

Roger nodded and looked to Barry who ordered the same. Just then, however, Iris entered the diner, wearing a summery dress. Green with white polka dots. Barry briefly remembered her talking about it being a sheath style dress. What that meant, though, he couldn't say.

“Ira!” Roger waved.

“That's Iris,” Barry said quietly. “Ira is her mother.”

“Right … Iris! Would you like to join us?” He asked politely.

Iris turned from her spot in line to see Barry and Roger sitting together. Iris put on a smile. “I was actually going to just get something to go, but sure.”

‘Sorry’ Barry mouthed as Iris came to join them, but she put on her best face.

“So, how's school?” Roger asked as Iris ordered.

“It's fine.” Barry shrugged his shoulders.

“For you, Iris?” He glanced at Iris who wasn’t sure she wanted to be there, but didn't want to he rude.

“It's good, Dinah Lance-- Larry Lance’s daughter at FPD crime lab-- wants me to take over for her as editor of the school newspaper.” She smiled politely.

“Ah, the City boy.” he nodded in understanding. “He’s a character-- but that's wonderful. Hope it works out. I saw what you wrote about Mulberry. Very nice. I know his wife liked it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

* * *

After they finished dinner Roger got the check and stood. “So, Barry I'm sure you want to spend some time with your friend-- I'll leave you two be. Be home by curfew.” Roger tipped his hat and headed out.

“What was that?” Iris asked when Roger was out of earshot.

“No idea. He's being nice,” Barry laughed a little. “He took me shooting.”

“ _You_ shot a gun?” She gave him a dubious look. “How well did that work out for you?”

“Hey, I _can_ do things!” Barry crossed his arms.

“I just meant-- when my dad taught us gun safety you didn't even want to hold a bullet,” she rolled her eyes.

“I hit the target … Not in the middle but I hit it. He wants us to go out again on Saturday.”

“Are you gonna go?” Iris linked her arm with his.

“Maybe just one more time,” he nodded once. “He seems like he's trying to connect with me so I don't want to be a jerk about it.”

“Well, just don't put yourself out,” Iris stepped up on her toes slightly before continuing to walk with him.  
  
“You can say what you want to say."  
  
“Hmm?” Iris hummed, turning to look at him.  
  
“You always do that when you're trying not to say something, or do something,” Barry gave a shrug of his shoulders.  
  
“Do I? Anyways … I just think it's weird. Mr. Morgan barely looks at you for four years and now suddenly he wants to be your best friend?” Iris bit her lip. “It feels really fishy to me.”  
  
“It is a little, but if he really is trying-- he deserves to be met halfway, don't you think?” Barry countered.  
  
"Not if you don't want to,” said Iris a bit sadly.

“I want to! I mean sure, I don't really want to spend an afternoon shooting, but it's better than awkward silences.”

“Barry! Iris!” Dinah waved to them from where she stood on the other side of the road.

The pair crossed the road to meet their friend on the other side.

“Get in!” Dinah grinned and hopped into the driver's seat of a what they quickly recognised as Barbara’s family’s van.

“Shotgun!” announced Iris, sliding into the front.

Barry headed into the left side, away from Barbara’s chair space and into the seat beside it. “Where are we going?” he asked curiously. “Where's Barbi?”

“I had to run to the bank and she didn't want to come, so I left her at Sal’s junk yard!” she grinned.

“What were you doing all the way out there?” Iris chimed in.

“It's a secret!” Dinah winked at her.

When they arrived at the far end of town, Dinah pulled over and the two younger teens got out. They could see Barbi in the distance, sorting through a pile of computers and old radios, most were shattered into a million pieces.

“Hey, Barbi!” Dinah cupped her hands around her mouth to throw her voice farther across the way. “Look who I grabbed on the way back!”

Barbi pulled her chair back and turned to face the sound of the voice. “Hey guys!” she waved before going back to the pile.

“What are we doing?” Barry asked curiously.

“Sal said we can take anything from the electronics we'd like for fifty bucks, so I'm snagging up some computer parts.”

“Well, that's nice of him,” said Barry. “Do you need a hand?”

“Actually, yes!” Barbara pointed to a small pile of computer bits to her left. “Can you dig through those and see if you can find a motherboard?”

Barry nodded and got to work. He pulled the side plate off of a rather modern looking desktop and began to look through it. “This computer looks perfectly fine, there's no damage or anything.”

“Rich people,” Barbara rolled her eyes. “It's probably from one of the cities. Some people just throw away their computers when they get outdated."

“Who could do that? The first thing you ever taught me about computers was not to waste good tech.”

“Maybe it had viruses,” said Iris casually, moving to help Barry.

“You can get rid of viruses,” said Barbara. “If you ever get your own laptop, I'm setting it up for you.”

“I won't argue with that,” Iris laughed softly. She wasn't exactly bad with computers, but no one could compare to Barbara. Iris could remember Barbara rebooting the entire schools system at the start of the year. She also provided Iris and Dinah with technical background whenever they needed it.

* * *

At dinner Barry was quiet, he wasn't in the mood for an argument. He stayed focused on his plate and hoped the whole ordeal would blow over.

“Barry, you need to branch out more.” decided Deb as she piled more mashed potatoes onto her plate. “Your only friends can't be a bunch of girls. Most of them are upperclassmen too. That Lance girl is graduating next year. Always getting into trouble too … and you can't go anywhere with that Gordon girl in her chair.”

“That’s not very nice,” said Barry, his tone direct and unapologetic. “Barbara can go plenty of places.”

“I just think you're young and should he out doing fun things--”

“Barbara and I have plenty of fun,” he said seriously. “There's nothing wrong with my friends, and I can't branch out anyways. So, please stop asking me to.”

“Well, do you try?”

“It’s hard to try when I'm getting my face slammed into lockers on the daily!” he nearly slammed his fork down. He couldn't even pretend he was going to eat anymore, he was too mad.

“What are you talking about?” Deb raised her eyebrows.  
  
“I didn’t fall around the stupid pool, another kid slammed my face into a locker,” he stared down at his plate, not wanting to be having the conversation at all. He was sure she had to have caught on by now and was just looking the other way.  
  
“I've never gotten any calls from the school about you getting into fights,” said Deb.  
  
“I'm not getting into fights, I'm walking down the hall and next thing I know Blake Kim is running up behind me and slamming my face into my locker-- there was also the time Dennis Gilbert nearly knocked me to the ground because I walked into his car trying to get away from the Asher twins’ harassment.” He pushed peas around on his plate, no longer having much of an appetite.  
  
“You haven't reported it?”  
  
“Principal Hallaway just says that ' _boys will be boys_ ' garbage.”  
  
“You need to put them in their place, Barry. If they push you, push back,” replied Roger, surprising even Barry. "Don't let them get away with it."  
  
“I don't want to fight them. Why would I? So they can decide they were right about me?” he stood and scraped his mashed potatoes onto John’s plate (his favourite) and moved into the kitchen to dump the rest down the garbage disposal. “I'm going to bed.”

Roger watched the situation unfold before he slowly rose from his seat. “I'm gonna go check on him,” he made his way down the hall, mangling to catch a glimpse of Barry slamming his bedroom door.

He moved down the hall. When he reached the door he knocked on it. “Uh, Barry…” he trialled off, trying to formulate what he wanted to say. “Do you want to open the door so we can … talk?”

Barry rose from his bed, his eyes snapped shut. He tried to focus on his breathing for a moment. When he felt he could manage, he opened his eyes and moved to the door and opened it. “I'm sorry.”

“No, Barry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have suggested you solve this with violence. I know that's not … it's not how you are. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“I just want Mrs. Morgan to stop doing this to me,” Barry said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have any idea what it's like living like this? It's lonely. Everyone hates me and I _finally_ find people who treat me like a human being and she has to crap all over it. Every single time I'm happy she finds a way to make it wrong or dirty. I can't--” he hid his face in his arm, trying to hold himself together. “The girls and the Wests are all I have. Everyone else treats me like a punching bag or a sideshow.”

“You've got me, kiddo.” he clapped Barry on the shoulder awkwardly.

“You think I'm just as crazy as everyone else.”

“My world was smaller before you came into it,” he admitted after a moment. “I know things now that I didn't before.”

* * *

The following week, drawing closer to the summer, Barry’s shooting had gotten a little straighter, but he still didn't have good aim. He hoped Roger would give up on the idea. He didn't really want to shoot anything, he mainly stuck around for him.

“I've been watching you with Jonathan,” said Roger as They pulled out of the clearing and back onto the road.

“You have?” Barry glanced at him. He wasn't sure what that meant.

Roger’s eyes stayed on the road. “You're good with him. Wish I knew how you did it. He's adjusting faster than you did. I think that's thanks to you. Terrible things that happened to that boy, just terrible.”

“Studies have indicated that children have a better time recovering from traumatic events and adjusting when they have a good support system.”

There was silence between them, Roger just nodded; able to recognise his and Deb’s missteps.

“I didn't mean--” Barry began when he realised what he implied.

“No, it's alright Barry. You're right. Deb and I had no idea what we were doing when we took you in, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Not a lot of people do. About thirty percent teens have an anxiety disorder and around eighty percent of them are untreated.” Barry spoke quickly. “

“That many, huh?”

“Yeah, though a lot of people are embarrassed to talk about it too. Plus mental health services aren't often available. Teen suicide is at a high as well. The country is a mess right now when it comes to mental health.”  
  
“You would talk to us or Iris if you wanted to die … right?” Roger asked suddenly.  
  
“I’ve thought about dying,” Barry admitted. “but I don't think I ever really would.”  
  
“What does that mean, Barry?”  
  
“I haven’t felt safe in almost five years. I'm always fighting with myself. It gets … I get tired,” he looked down at his hands. “I keep it together so Mrs. Morgan doesn't send me back to the hospital but … some days it's hard.”  
  
"Why don't you feel safe?" Roger pulled up to the house but made no move to get out of the car.  
  
"My mom's killer is still on the loose, I still have nightmares--"  
  
"Barry. Your father killed your mother," Roger said firmly.  
  
"Maybe it wasn't a man made of lighting, Roger, but it wasn't my dad. I tried to help, dad stopped me. He was next to me on the other side of the room when my mom died-- then I was in Iris's room on the second floor a block away," he glared at the dashboard. "You can't tell me that makes sense. You can't tell me he could have done that."  
  
"The case was closed, son. Let your mother rest and move on with your life." Roger took the keys from the car and got out. “I wish things were different, but they're not.”

Barry headed into his room and found Jonathan reading one of his science books.

His head jerked up and he dropped the book. “I'm sorry!” He said quickly. “I'm sorry!”

Barry crossed the room and picked up the book, dusting off some of the dog hair that clung to the cellophane cover. He grinned at the boy “No harm! You can look at any of my books. I promise I'm not mad.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But, I am really proud of you reading all on your own. I told you that we'd get it!” He passed the book back to him.

“It's really hard, but I like it,” he smiled.

Barry reached out to pat his head but hesitated, pulling his hand back as he didn't want to upset him.


	5. Canary Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry spends some much needed time with his friends and a local man claims he was attacked by a banshee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Warnings: bullying, implied violence, descriptions of injury,  
> Notes: If I missed any tags let me know (: I hope you have a great day! Remeber to eat and stay hydrated.]]

“Finally!” Iris burst out of the school building with her head held high. “Freedom,” she threw her arms up. “I cannot wait to soak up the sun. How about we go to the lake this weekend?” Iris suggested.

“I would have to talk to the Morgans, Roger might just let me--” he followed after her into the sea of students eager to get off of school grounds.

“Ugh, right. The dictators,” Iris rolled her eyes.

“Guys!” an arm slung around each of their shoulders. “This is like, my last summer here, so we’re gonna have fun!” Dinah announced, pulling them against her sides.

“I still think we should have a going away party,” said Barbara.

“You two can have all the fun you want. I have to work,” he laughed, ducking under Dinah’s arm to start walking in the direction of Dane’s Auto.

* * *

When he arrived, Jasper Dane, Daphne’s father was looking over an older, rusted pickup truck. He only glanced up when Barry walked in for his shift. “Ah, Barry! Do you need a truck?” he asked suddenly.

“Um … what do you mean?”

“I bought this thing off of the guy who runs the junkyard but I can't take on any more projects. If you want it I'd let it go for about seven hundred,” he slapped the hood.

Barry paused, wondering why his boss thought of him. “I would have to talk to the Morgans about it,” Barry said after a moment of consideration. “Sorry, I can't commit to anything now.”

“No problem! I just figured you'll start driving next year so--” he shrugged and shut the hood. “If you started working on this thing now, it would probably be done by the time you could get it on the road.”

“Right,” Barry went to clock in and was met by Daphne, her long hair pinned up in a bun.

“Are you going to get the car?” she asked, without so much as a ‘hello’.

Barry felt frustrated, he felt like Daphne was clingy. He didn't know if that made him a hypocrite or not, considering he was pretty close to Iris … but he decided that was different. Iris wanted him around, but aside from being polite, Barry didn't really show any other interest in her besides once or twice. However, he had been upfront about that, or at least he thought he had.

“I don't know yet, I have to talk to the Morgans,” he replied, clocking in with the vintage-looking machine on the wall.

“If you get it, we could work on it together,” she smiled up at him hopefully.

“I don't know,” he mumbled, heading over to the file room. He was in charge of paperwork that day. So he didn't have many cars to work on.

“Are you and the Morgan's going to the Summer fest?” Daphne asked.

“No. My brother doesn't want to go so we’re not,” Barry shrugged his shoulders.

“Then how about we go together?”

“Uhm,” Barry paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know,” he ran his hand over his neck and started to sort through some files.

“Barry,” said Patty from the doorway. “could you give me a hand with something?” she brushed her short hair back slightly, giving him an awkward smile.

“Yes, I can,” Barry stood and headed across the room, grateful to be free of Daphne. “What seems to be the issue?”

“The breaks in my dad's car are being weird. My dad dropped me off to get it handled after it was towed in but Mr Dane is kind of intimidating…”

Barry laughed. “Yeah, he is! I'll Take a look right now.” When they were out of earshot he added a ‘thank you’.

“Oh, did I come at a good time?” Patty asked curiously as she leads him to her father’s four-door sedan. It was a colour that stood somewhere between swamp green and grey.

“I don't want to be rude, yeah. I'm grateful to be out of there,” he laughed a little and popped the hood of the car, he rose it up to look at the problem area first. “It looks like the brake pads are pretty shot, but let me have a look to see if anything else is coming into play,” he started to do a routine check on everything like Mr Dane had taught him. “Okay, well it looks like the breaks are bad and … these tires are bad too. Does he rotate them? I've only been here a year so I couldn't tell you--”

“Rotating tires?” She asked, indicating that Mr Spivot and Patty herself probably weren’t very car savvy.

“I'll take that as a no,” he sighed. “Okay, I won't lie to you. This car needs a lot of work. Probably new brakes and tires,” he started taking down notes on what the car might need.

“You really know your stuff,” Patty grinned, impressed.

When she talked with him, it felt natural. He didn't feel like he had to be on guard like he did with Daphne. It was very refreshing. “I hope I do,” he laughed softly and ticked off a few things on his list. “I might get a car this year, depending on what Morgans say.”

“Wow, really? That's exciting. What kind?” she seemed genuinely interested.

“That one, actually,” he jabbed a thumb in the direction of the old pick up a few feet behind them.

“Woah, cool! I bet it could be great fixed up.”

“I think so too.”

Eventually, he finished up the list and excused himself to run it by his boss. His boss came to look at the car as well, adding things that Barry missed.

“So, everything circled in red has to be addressed before the car goes back out on the road, the rest are just things that could really prolong the life of this car. I'm sorry, my boss said at this rate this car probably won't last too much longer.” Barry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I really appreciate it, Barry!” she smiled. “I'll get this to my dad and see what he has to say, I can leave the car here, right?”

“Yeah, let us know what you want to do soon though.”

“Can do!” the whole ordeal had taken about forty minutes, but Barry didn't mind. “Hey, do you know Barbara Gordon and Dinah Lance?”

“I sort of do, yeah! They're a fun bunch,” she smiled, many people knew the duo.

“You want to come with us to lunch tomorrow? I know you sit alone sometimes-- but I mean--” he babbled. “You can always sit with us. They're really nice-- I mean they tolerate me.”

“I'll think about it!” she nodded. “Did you hear there's a new family moving into town?” she asked.

“No, I didn't actually,” Barry wondered why on earth anyone would _choose_ to move to Fallville.

“Why anyone would _choose_ to move here though, is beyond me. The locals are nasty, and I say that as a local.”

“You said it, not me,” Barry pointed with a chuckle.

When Patty was ready to leave, he gave her the info for where they were meeting and when. She thanked him but admitted she wasn't sure if she would make it.

“Can I give you some advice, Barry?” She asked, hesitating at the door.

“Hmm?” he hummed and looked up at her.

“I'm friends with Daphne, and I know she can be intense sometimes … but she really likes you, and does mean well,” she headed out then.

He headed back to the file room and was relieved that Daphne was gone. He would never say he disliked her, he just found it frustrating when she was pushy. It sometimes made him want to avoid her.

“Hey, Barr,” she said, coming into view with a stack of files. “Sorry, dad has another stack of these for you.”

Barry shrugged and started to work on it. “Hey, um. So, you know I want to be friends with you, right?” he asked after a few minutes.

“What does that mean?” Daphne raised her eyebrows at him.

“I mean, I know we’ve had some arguments lately. I don't want you to think on hate you or something, it's just really frustrating?” his statement tapered off like a question. He always wanted to be nice at the end of the day.

“We haven't been arguing,” she laughed. “You've just been very abrasive! Which trust me, I don't mind. I've got an older sister who is the sandpaper queen!” she laughed, hiding it behind her hand slightly. “Plus you know my dad.”

“I just get frustrated …  my mom died when I was a kid and my friends are all I have now. It’s hurtful when people try to force labels onto us or make it weird somehow.”

“I'm sorry, Barry.”

“Thank you. We’re all getting lunch at the new Big Belly Burger tomorrow, would you like to come with us?” he offered, as an olive branch.

“Sure! Can I bring my friend Liam?” she smiled brightly.

“Sure, plenty of room. It won't be many of us and Barbi sits on the end,” he smiled and ducked his head down into his paperwork.

 

When Barry got home from work he headed into the kitchen to wash his hands. He realised quickly that the Spivot’s car was a bit more intense than other cars he worked on. “Hey, I know it's my turn to do dinner but I had a really rough car at work. I'm going to shower,” he told Roger who sat at the kitchen table.

Barry noticed he had a book open in his hands. That was new. Barry thought, anyway. Roger usually preferred to watch the game or something else.

“Whatever you want, Barry. Deb is at bunko with her friends. She won't be home for dinner,” he called as Barry headed into the hallways.

When most of the grime was scrubbed off Barry returned found Roger eating a microwave burrito. He felt relieved that he was off the hook for dinner. He didn't much feel like cooking after that day he’d had.

“What are you reading?” Barry asked curiously and he grabbed something microwave from the freezer and popped it in the microwave.

“Mr Andrews gave it to me, you know him, right?” he checked, turning a page in the book.

“Yeah, he owns the bookstore. He's really nice, he gives me a discount on co-- school books, uh. When we need reading books for school he gives us a discount,” Barry caught himself.

“I know you and Iris read comics with Jonathan,” Roger laughed and set the book down for a moment. “I'm not as oblivious as I appear. If you like Jay Garrick that's fine with me. I read a few of his stories in college.”

Barry nodded once and ran a hand through his hair. “The book?” he brought up one last time, unsure if there was a reason he didn't answer the question directly.

“Oh, right. It's about brain stuff,” Roger finished his burrito. “You know, trauma and stuff.”

“That's cool,” Barry wasn't sure what else to say. “Where's Jonathan?”

“He's holed up in his room. I don't know, he won't talk to me so I'm giving him some space. I don't want to push him, you know?” he shrugged his shoulders.

Barry rose from his seat and into the hallway. He made his way down until he found Jonathan’s room. He knocked. “John? It's Barry. Do you want to come out and have dinner? I can make your favourite. Mashed potatoes and cooked carrots.”

“No. I want to stay in here.” Jonathan called through the door.

“Alright, when you're ready to eat come get me please.”

“Okay.”

Barry headed back into the kitchen. “I'll cook him something when he comes out later,”

“He talked to you?” Roger raised a brow at him, surprised.

Barry shrugged his shoulders. “He responds to me I guess,” he didn't really want to unintentionally drag his foster dad for lack of effort again. The first time hadn't even been intentional.

Roger nodded.

“I'll have something to ask you while we’re here,” Barry carefully broached the subject, unsure of the reaction he would receive.

Roger just hummed in response, starting to clean up his plate and pushing the book towards Barry. _Psychology for chumps: PTSD_.

“If I got a car, would it be in the way?” he asked, starting to pick at his own microwave dinner. “Like, could I park it on the street and stuff?”

“Can you afford a car?” Roger raised his eyebrows, surely his part-time job didn't pay him enough for that.

“Well, Mr Dane offered me an old pickup for seven hundred,” Barry explained awkwardly.

“Oh, really? Well, you're going to need a car now that we have Jonathan here. So, I'll tell you what. If you put up three-fifty, I'll cover the other half.”

“I-- are you sure? Really?” he stared at him in clear confusion.

“Like I said, you'll need to be able to drive so, yeah.” he nodded once.

“Thank you.”

* * *

The following afternoon, Iris and Barry found themselves a seat. They figured Dinah and Barbara would be late so they went ahead and ordered for them.

It wasn't long before Dinah, Barbara, and a tall, broad-shouldered officer began to enter the establishment. Barry recognised him as Jim Gordon. “They have a ramp, Babs, would you look at that?”

Jim Gordon interviewed him when his mother died, Barry ducked his head down slightly and hoped he wouldn't be noticed. He hadn't spoken to the man since _that night_. He always made an effort to avoid him at the precinct and in public.

“Hey, kids!” he grinned widely, to Barry’s surprise and even clapped Barry on the shoulder. “It's good to see you both!” he smiled and moved across to speak to the manager.

“Was your dad … _happy_ to see me?” Barry asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yep!” Barbara smiled, then frowned at his confused expression. “Did you think he didn't like you?” Barbara tried to ask but the subject was quickly changed.

“Babs?” Iris chuckled.

“Yep! She's our Babs,” said Dinah with a grin.

“ _Only_ my dad calls me that. you can laugh all you want but all of you have it easy. Barry, Iris, and D,” she crossed her arms. “Barbara doesn't have a lot to work with!”

“Beebee?” Barry offered.

“God, no.”

“Fine, Babs,” Barry chuckled and a waitstaff brought out their food. “We ordered for you, assuming you would be late.”

“Great, thanks! I'm starving.”

A few minutes later, two more figures arrived. Daphne and who Barry assumed was Liam. He was tall and handsome. He took a seat at the both and ordered for him and Daphne.

The group talked animatedly about what a ‘hell storm’ finals were. Barry decided that it felt nice to have a friend group, but also felt a bit bad that Patty never showed up. Daphne was more tolerable, however, she seemed a bit focused on Liam.

“I'll see you later, Babs,” Jim Gordon had reappeared and kissed his daughter on the temple.

“Thank you for the ride, Sheriff!” said Dinah.

“No problem, you kids have fun.”

“So!” Dinah turned to Iris. “Iris, I wasn't supposed to tell you yet, but-- Mrs Gordon approved you taking over for me as editor when I leave!”

“Oh wow! I'm so excited! Thank you for putting in a good word for me!”

* * *

They headed out after lunch, Daphne and Liam went off on their own. This left Barry and the girls to walk around town. Dinah yawned and stretched her arms out in front of her as they walked.

The girls headed into the small boutique that had been opened by the older sister of a classmate. Barry, who had absolutely no interest in dresses, but secretly loved clothes shopping with the girls, hung back a bit. He didn't want the judging looks from the owner. He waited outside.

Something hard slammed into his shoulder. It was enough force to hurt but not enough to leave a bruise. Barry flinched, waiting for another blow, or a remark, however:

“Oh golly! Er--I'm sorry!”

Barry followed the source of the voice, his eyes fell on a boy he had never seen before. He was tall and currently picking up a bag he had dropped.

“What a fucking clown!” a boy, Neil Ottem. Barry recognised him from his trigonometry class. Had called from across the street.

Barry rolled his eyes and knelt down, grabbing the plastic wrapped head of lettuce that had rolled away slightly. “You okay?” he glanced at the other boy, dropping the lettuce into the bag.

The boy glanced up at Barry and he stood up straight, one hand flying to the back of his neck, worrying the skin there. “I--um … sorry,” their eyes and the other boy looked away almost instantly. “Thanks,” he nodded once and shuffled the bag into one arm. “I'm kind of a clutz,” he confessed and gave Barry an uneasy smile.

“Don't worry about it, I'm Barry Allen. You new in town?” he assumed. “Sorry, we’re not too welcoming here.”

“Yeah, my family and I just moved in. My parents and my brother. You know, the American family-- I mean, yeah,” his face flushed a but.

“Jeremy, Where is your brother?” it was a middle-aged woman who spoke.

Barry snapped his head up and saw her with a young boy who was closer to Jonathan’s age than either of the boys standing awkwardly outside the dress boutique.

“That's my family,” he said awkwardly. “I got to go-- but I hope more guys around here are as cute as you, and not like that guy” he smiled before he jabbed a thumb in the direction of the guy who shouted at him. Before Barry could react though, he was heading back to his family.

“That guy was cute and totally hitting on you!” Dinah leaned an arm on his shoulder casually. “You know, I didn't know you swung that way but I support you, dude.”

“I'm not gay,” he didn't say it defensively, and the words were paired with a casual tone.

“Neither am I, but I love girls!” Dinah grinned at his confused expression. “I'm Bi.”

“Bi?” Barry couldn't say he knew the term.

“Bisexual, if someone's hot, they're hot, I don't care what they're called.” she shrugged and moved back. “I told you that because I trust you though, I don't want bullshit in this town, so try to keep quiet about it until I'm out of here,” she laughed softly.

“Sure, no problem. I'm not that either, though. I don't think I'm anything,” he shrugged his shoulders, he didn't worry about it as much as he once had, he had bigger things to focus on now.

“That's fine,” she smiled and ruffed up his hair a little. “Sometimes things don't fit in a box. So, Iris wants to get a dress for the Summer fest and I got bored so I came out here-- you didn't come in with us?” she knew Barry was always more than pleased to join in on whatever the girls were doing.

“The owner gives me weird looks when I go in,” he shrugged his shoulders, “Plus I need some air.” He just sat there in silence for a second before Iris and Barbara came out of the boutique.

“Hey, guys!” Iris grinned. “We both found dresses!”

“Fantastic!” said Dinah, pretending to ignore Iris clearly eyeing their hands. “Let's go get ice cream! My treat, it's the first weekend of my last summer.”

“Alright!” Barbara grinned.

The team only had to cross the street before they reached the small Ice cream shop. It was incredibly crowded but even with the enclosed space, Barry was sure that every guy who bumped into him hadn't done it on accident. When Barry got closer to the front with Iris she spoke.

“You and Dinah seemed close,” Iris commented casually. Barbara was outside with Dinah, unable to get her chair onto the ledge _and_ through the crowd in the tiny shop.

“It's not like that,” Barry said quickly. “We were just -- talking about personal stuff,” he shrugged his shoulders.

Iris laughed softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Barry. I'm just … it's really great to see you branching out. I want you to be surrounded by good people.” The line moved again and Iris clicked her flat-clad heels together.

“Hi, Mr Moran!” Barry grinned. “Could we get a vanilla soft serve cone, a medium wedding cake bowl, a mint chip bowl, and a medium banana with gummy bears, and sprinkles, M&M’s, and Oreo bit, please?”

“Hey, Iris!” said a boy, from the back. He was tall and slender like Barry, with less tone in his arms.

“Hey, Robby!” Iris waved. Robert Moran was in Iris’s calculus class the second youngest, and only boy out of four girls. All of which were behind the counter helping today. Barry didn't know them very well but the family always seemed nice enough.

“Barry,” he nodded with a smile. He got their ice cream and Barry passed Mr Moran some cash before the pair headed out. Barry passed Dinah her wedding cake ice cream.

“ _Yes,_ ” Dinah nearly moaned as she took a bite. “Honestly the best I've cream ever made!”

“Um, no,” Barry argued. “banana with gummy bears and sprinkles is the best ice cream ever made.”

“That's disgusting, Allen, the only Bananas I'll eat aren't fruit.” she held out her ice cream towards him. “Try a bite of this and you'll literally never eat anything else again.

“Both of you are disgusting. Plain vanilla or nothing else!” Iris rolled her eyes at them. “What does that even mean?”

“Nothing,” said Iris and Barbara at once.

“Whatever. It's not going to beat my longtime favourite,” Barry said smugly.

Dinah picked up the spoon “Eat it, you coward!” Dinah pushed the spoon toward him.

“Fine.” he rolled his eyes, taking the spoon and trying a bite. “Okay … that is really good.”

“I _told_ you!”

“Try this,” he pushed his bowl towards her.

“No, I'm sorry. Banana ice cream is an offence to god.”

“You're an atheist!”

“I'll convert, then you can't encroach on my religious rights to not eat that shit.”

“Just kiss,” said Barbara.

“Gross he's twelve!” Dinah objected strongly.

“I'm fifteen and a half.”

“That's literally something a twelve-year-old would say, dick.”

“Jerk,”

Dinah aimed a swift kick at his arse.

“Hey! Jeez, I'm having flashbacks to our first meeting!” he rubbed his butt through his jeans a little.

“I already apologised for that. You snuck up on me in a dark room!” she crossed her arms.

“I grabbed a flash drive from the computer next to you--”

“I said I was sorry!” she insisted.

* * *

Sometime during the week, Barry came out of his bedroom to a note on the whiteboard that read _‘Barry truck money_ ’ and an arrow pointing to an envelope stuck to the fridge. Barry was surprised that Roger went through with his offer, but didn't want to seem ungrateful. He took the money and locked up the house before walking to the bank. It wasn't too far from the mechanic shop so he was able to stop on the way.

He headed in and did his best to keep his head down, hoping no one unsavoury would notice him. He headed over to the stand in the middle of the room and began to fill out his withdraw slip.

When the teller handed him the envelope with his cash he thanked her and headed into work. “Mr Dane? Mr Morgan said I could buy the truck,” he smiled.

“Perfect!” he grabbed the keys from the drawer and handed them to Barry after getting the envelope.

Barry added the key to his keychain before getting to work. He was grateful he and Daphne had different shifts that day. He ran a hand through his hair as he started to clean yet another animal out of an engine.

“Barry!” Wally grinned and pulled at his coveralls. “I came to see you again!”

“Woah, buddy, you can't be in here.” Barry laughed slightly.

“Allen, I can't have kids running around in here!” called Mr Dane in a very disapproving voice.

“Sorry, sir, I'll--”

“That's my bad, Jasper. The little man got away from me,” Ethan West spoke as he came into view. “He was so excited that we were passing Barry’s work.” He laughed softly.

“Did you take your lunch yet?” Ethan asked.

“I'm almost done for the day, actually. I just have a spark plug to replace for Mrs Mulbarry then I'm all set.”

“Okay, how about we wait and you join Wally and I for lunch?” he suggested.

“Ethan, please get Wally out of here.”

“Right, sorry,” he grabbed Wally’s hand and lead him out of the shop.

“I'll be out in fifteen minutes!” Barry called after them before putting the engine back into place and tightening all the bolts. Then he moved onto the next car to deal with the spark plug.

When he was cleaned up and out of the shop he ran a hand through his hair with a yawn. He had been up top early, Jonathan was having nightmares again.

“So, where were you guys heading?” Barry asked, eager to get home and get some sleep.

“I want Barry to carry me on his shoulders again!” Wally jumped up in place, his tiny shoes scraping against the pavement.

“I think Barry’s kind of tired, buddy. I can carry you--”

“It's fine,” Barry insisted and lifted a Wally onto his shoulders with a groan. They continued down the road and headed to the old diner a few blocks away before Barry put Wally down so they could get in the door.

“Wally’s dad is coming into town soon,” said Ethan as they found a seat.

“That's great,” Barry smiled a little.

“Not really. He was honourably discharged,” he admitted and they ordered lunch.

“What happened?”

“He got injured pretty bad in Markovia. He might lose the use of his left hand. I know you probably have a lot going on, but would you mind coming down to the station with me and just keeping Wally busy? Iris and Ira are at the hospital now.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Barry nodded. “Do you want to hang out with me today, buddy?” Barry glanced at Wally who was scribbling on his menu with crayons.

“Yes!”

* * *

They arrived at the station and Jim Gordon greeted them. “How is Mason?” he asked. His concern was genuine. Which surprised Barry. It shouldn't have, but Barry had never known what kind of a person Jim was. He tried to avoid him.

“He's recovering, they just transferred him to the hospital here,” Ethan explained before heading to his desk, Barry hung off to the side with Wally, pulling a few comic books from his bag.

“I'm telling you!” shouted a voice. Barry’s head snapped up to see a man. He had two officers on him, trying to stop him from struggling. Blood ran down his ears. “A bitch in a wig blew my eardrums open!” he resisted the officers’ grips. “I'm telling you! It was impossible! Her scream knocked me down me like a fucking banshee! Shattered all those windas. It wasn't me!”

“Sir, you were under arrest for assault.” said one of the officers.

“I can barely hear anything!”

Barry could see that there was indeed blood running down the man's cheeks and jaw. He covered Wally’s ears when the screaming started.

Larry Lance stepped out of the doorway that lead to the staircase that lead to the crime lab. “What's going on?” he asked, glancing down at Barry on the floor with Wally.

“This guy came in claiming that he saw a banshee,” Barry explained. What happened next, served only to confuse Barry further. “It apparently screamed and blew his eardrums our as well as clearing out some storefronts … which sounds like a banshee but if it was he wouldn't be alive…”

Larry paled, now white as a sheet he set a file down on Ethan desk. “I have to go. Here's that fibre analysis,” he was out the door almost too fast for Barry to process.

Barry screwed up his face slightly but didn't say anything. He simply turned his attention back to Wally. “Are you okay, Wally?” Barry asked.

“I'm big I don't get scared!” Wally crossed his arms firmly and pouted, but Barry could tell he was a little shaken.

“I'm big too and I get scared sometimes. Do you want a hug?” he offered casually, focusing on the picture he was colouring in with Wally. Doing his best not to make a big deal out of it.

“Yes,” Wally decided after a minute.

Barry leaned over and wrapped his arms around the child. “It's okay, buddy,” he spoke softly and patted the back of his head gently.

The precinct was usually quiet. Fallville didn't exactly have a high crime rate. He couldn't remember the last time someone was arrested for anything higher than a burglary in that town. Not since his dad anyways. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Barry let go when Wally pulled away and returned to his picture. Barry smiled a little. He made extra notes to investigate what happened later. That definitely sounded like something supernatural. He wasn't quite sure how he could manage that though.

However, soon Ethan began to clear up his desk for the day. “Thanks for sitting with Wally, it means a lot,” he smiled and tucked a file into his desk.

“No problem! You know I don't mind,” he smiled and got to his feet after putting Wally’s colouring supplies away in his bag. “Do you know anything about cell phones?” Barry found himself asking.

“Yes?” Ethan’s eyebrows pulled together. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I have a job now so I was going to get one. I don't know much about what to get though.”

“I can take you this week,” Ethan offered. “We can have Marvin at the tech store set you up with something.”

“Thanks,” Barry nodded and they headed out of the precinct with them. “What do you think that guy meant by a banshee?”  
  
“Barry … you should just leave that alone, okay?” Ethan said gently. One hand cane around his shoulders and pulled him into a half hug. “You know I love you like you were my own … but you need to try to let this go.”  
  
Barry pulled away slightly. “What are you saying?” He crossed his arms, becoming visibly more guarded.  
  
“Barry, all of this supernatural stuff was fine when you were eleven. You needed something to help you process what happened … but you're a young man now. It's time to let the past rest.”  
  
“Do you think my dad killed my mom?” Barry asked, a sick sensation washing over him. He felt safe with the Wests. They always believed in him no matter what. _Didn't they?_ he thought hopelessly.  
  
“Wally, get in the car,” Ethan said gently, opening the back seat and getting Wally buckled in. When the door was closed he turned to Barry. “It doesn't matter what I think, Barry. It matters what the judge and the evidence thinks. Your father isn't going to get out of prison, I have done my best to be a support for you but you can't save your father by chasing vampires and Banshees,” Ethan placed his hands on his shoulders. “I wish you could, but you can't, and it isn't your job to.”  
  
Barry turned his gaze to the sidewalk, his eyes narrowing at the crap between two cement panels. “I have to do _something._ ”  
  
“No, son. You don't. You have to be a kid, worry about school and friends.”  
  
“You wouldn't understand.”  
  
“You're right, I wouldn't,” Ethan replied and gave his shoulders a squeeze. “I empathize though, and I really do feel for you but you can't keep doing this."

“I'm going home now,” said Barry.

“I'll give you a ride--”

“I'll walk,” Barry started to head down the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are moderated because this piece deals with sensitive subjects, I don't want people who may relate these themes to come here and see any negitivity like Aphobia in the comments, other comments and critique are always welcome though!


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